


The Wolf's Sun

by Not_So_Dark_One



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Oberyn Martell, BAMF Sansa Stark, Bisexual Sansa Stark, Book Dany, Canon - Book, Cersei Lannister Bashing, Curses, Daenerys Targaryen Deserves Better, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, Dorne, Dorne rocks, Dorne-North Alliance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, House Martell, House Stark, I make this up as i go along, Joffrey Baratheon Being an Asshole, Joffrey Baratheon is His Own Warning, Joffrey Baratheon is a Little Shit, Jon Snow Knows Something, Jon Snow deserts the Night's Watch, Jon Snow is a Stark, Lesbian Daenerys Targaryen, Lesbian Margaery Tyrell, Major Original Character(s), Margaery Tyrell Lives, Margaery Tyrell is a Good Friend, Maybe - Freeform, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Minor Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Minor Jon Snow/Val, Minor Tyrion Lannister/Shae, Multi, N plus A equals J, No Night King, No Others - Freeform, No White Walkers, OC is Helios Martell, Oberyn Martell Lives, Oberyn Martell is a Good Parent, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Out of Character, POV Cersei Lannister, POV Davos Seaworth, POV Original Character, POV Sansa Stark, POV Tyrion Lannister, POV Tywin Lannister, Past Abuse, Past Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Past Torture, Poison, Poisoning, Protectiveness, Queen Margaery Tyrell, Revenge, Romance, Sand Snakes - Freeform, Sansa Stark is actually clever, Sansa Stark-centric, Self-Indulgent, Stannis Baratheon Lives, Swordfighting, Swords, Tywin Lannister's A+ Parenting, Westerosi Politics, What-If, Work In Progress, Yi Ti, because I am not GRRM or D&D, because why not, cursed sword, for now, just a little, little show canon, main ship is Sansa/Helios, mentions only, no good character bashing, none of that, not entirely certain yet, they are similar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_So_Dark_One/pseuds/Not_So_Dark_One
Summary: Something different from what I have been writing thus far. I have decided to branch out of the Dany-centric fics and do a Sansa one. Fair warning though, this Sansa is going to be a good person, not Season 8 Sansa. No season 8, 7, 6, 5 or 4.This fic is not time canon compliant. Some events are slightly rearranged. So, lets start with the actual summary.Sansa loses everything. Her father is dead, sister missing and then she learns that her brother and mother were butchered by the Freys and Boltons. And then, the Lannisters decide to betroth her to Tyrion Lannister, the Imp. He was not a bad man, but she knew that her life was doomed to sadness and despair. All courtesy of House Lannister...And then the Sun rose from the south and she was safely warmed in it's golden rays. No longer a plaything of the Lannisters, follow the story of Sansa Stark and Helios Martell, the heir to Sunspear, and see what happens to them in the World of Ice and Fire. Does she have a chance at happiness? Will the Lannisters pay for their crimes? Read to find out...
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Daenerys Targaryen/Margaery Tyrell, Joffrey Baratheon/Margaery Tyrell, Jon Snow/Val, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Myrcella Baratheon/Trystane Martell, Nymeria Sand/Original Male Character(s), Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand, Sansa Stark/Original Male Character(s), Tommen Baratheon/Margaery Tyrell, Tyene Sand/Original Male Character(s), Tyene Sand/Original Male Character(s)/Sansa Stark, Tyene Sand/Sansa Stark
Comments: 44
Kudos: 96





	1. A lion burning in the sun

**Author's Note:**

> For those wondering, as said earlier, Jon/Dany will happen, but they are more of a background ship and Dany won't appear until later. Events here are still early season 4, so she is still in Meereen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter one of my first ever Sansa-centric story. Enjoy and please share your opinions. Some might criticize the usage of an OC but I like working with OCs.

Tyrion was assigned to the welcoming party, meant to greet their Dornish guests, just outside the city, at the edge of the Kingswood. The Martells hate House Lannister, so if a Lannister had to die, let It be Tyrion. Still, at least the impending threat of a violent slaughter did something to distract him of his impending marriage to Sansa Stark. 

That poor girl.

 _She does not deserve me. Sansa has been the plaything of my dearest family for so long now._ The poor girl, whose innocence and naïve outlook on life were stolen from her by his sweet sister and her vicious idiotic bastard, pardon the king. She certainly deserved better than Tyrion. While he had promised himself and her that he would be a gentle husband and would never hurt her, he knew that he would be forced to bed the poor girl, a child of sixteen namedays, so that he would have a Lannister-Stark child for Winterfell and for the Imp to become Lord Protector in its name. _As if the Northerners wouldn't kill me at first opportunity and revolt again. The one time father does something stupid. Or, more likely, he simply doesn't care for me._

His thoughts were interrupted, when Pod noticed the Dornish party arriving. As the boy was spelling the names and sigils of the Dornish houses, he came to the one representing House Martell.

"Not a carriage? A horse? Are you certain? As far as I know, Prince Doran is suffering from a severe case of gout, which would make it impossible for him to ride."

"Yes, my lord.", was his shy squire's reply.

Soon enough, the party came close enough to converse with them. Tyrion's height prevented him from seeing the end of the group, but with 9 different banners present, he suspected that there must be at least three hundred people, if not more. Regardless of misgivings, he had to address them:

'Greetings my lords and ladies. My name is Tyrion Lannister of House Lannister, master of coin. I am pleased to greet you to our fair capital of King's Landing, for our king Joffrey's wedding. I hope your journey went well."

"You do? How nice of you.", said an old man with a smug grin on his face. His banner was of a flying vulture with a baby in its talons, the inspiring sight that it was, and so this must be lord Blackmont.

He washed away the awkwardness of the answer, which in all fairness, Tyrion expected. You don't get to be a Lannister and expect Dornishmen to be nice. Especially after your father has butchered their princess and her children. A crime, which while not a publicly announced, was public knowledge. "So, my lords, forgive me, but where is prince Doran?"

"Our prince's illness made him unfit for such a journey. In his stead he sends his brother, prince Oberyn, and his son and heir, prince Helios."

That chilled his blood. Oberyn was known as the Red Viper of Dorne. Apart from that Tyrion knew that the man had a reputation for poison, great warrior skills and having more bastards than Robert. And he slept with boys as well. Prince Helios on the other hand was a mystery to him. The man was a known traveler, who was supposedly in Yi Ti, for at least 4 years.

The man beside lord Blackmont, must be that prince: "When I saw you in the distance, I thought that they sent the court's fool to greet us. I am glad this is not the case, elsewise you would be a quarterman."

"Well, I am glad as well then. Prince Helios Martell, I presume?!"

"Indeed, I am."

The man must be in his early twenties, handsome, short black hair and olive skin. A strange looking sheathed blade hung from his belt, with a smaller one beside it. He was dressed in yellow and orange doublet, depicting many small variants of the Martell sigil. He also wore a fancy scarf, made of Myrish silk, which was probably useful when traversing the deserts of Dorne. Loose rich silks and jeweled belts, such was the style of the Dornish, always harassed by the heat of the Dornish sun. Small wonder, the Martells decided to run it through with a spear.

"So, where is your uncle?"

"Somewhere around." The greatest troublemaker of Dorne is in King's Landing unsupervised. What could go wrong? "Where is your father? I desire a word with him."

"May I ask why?"

"No. Inform your father of our arrival, will you?" Great! Lion vs viper. That is what we need right now.

As he finished his sentence, his men started to go around Tyrion and the welcome party, throwing protocol down the drains.

"Please, allow my men to escort you to proper lodgings for your stay.", he said, words unheard as the Dornish simply entered the city.

"Hell of a welcome was that.", quipped Bronn.

"There is no love between our houses. We are lucky they didn't decide to kill us on the spot. Now let's go find Oberyn Martell, before he kills somebody. Or several somebodies."

"A single Dornishman in a city this big?"

"When you have travelled for weeks, in order to attend a most boring to you event, and you are famous for fucking half of Westeros, where would you go first upon arrival?"

"I would say to bed, but I must be getting old.", said Bronn. "Let's go search the more expensive brothels in the city."

* * *

The tower of the Hand was his home. Not Casterly Rock. As much as he loved the place he was born, Tywin had spent 20 years living here and he most likely will die here all the same. The solar, where he met with dignitaries, was a spacious chamber. Expensive tapestries adorned the walls, a red carpet on the ground, the Lannister lion-shaped metal bars, which greeted the person who came to sit on the opposing chair of his desk...   
All of this served to express the power and prestige of House Lannister. 

Over his many years of service here, Tywin has intimidated dozens of people into submission and concession. When the heir to Sunspear expressed a desire for a private audience, Tywin hoped that he would be added to the statistic. No such luck. The Dornish heir did not seem at all intimidated by the Great Lion of the Rock.

"Did you expect me to be intimidated by an old man?", he said as if reading his thoughts. "Five years ago, I might have been, but these days.... An old man barely keeping his house together is not even an amusement."

"Whatever do you mean by that?" Tywin was not at all tolerant to insults to himself or his house. 

"Well, lets see. Your daughter's bastard sits the Iron throne. A most incapable bastards at that. Your finances are in a very bad state. You are at war with half the realm...."

"Most slanderous accusations. With not a shred of truth to them. Our finances are secure. And our war is won. Robb Stark is dead, the Northerners brought to heel, Renly Baratheon is dead and his brother is defeated.", he stated matter-of-factly, despite knowing he was lying. Recent accounting showed that they were neck deep in debt to the Iron Bank. That sent shivers down his spine, knowing just how much trouble these bankers could cause.

"The Northerners will always hate you lot for it. And Stannis still lives. Your puppet regime is nowhere near as secure as you might believe it to be."

"I hoped that Dorne would be appeased by my generous offer, a princess and a seat on the small council."

"Married to my littlest brother. Ha. I couldn't care less. As for your seat, well, I think that it is only natural for you to start paying your debts to Dorne, lord Tywin."

Tywin seethed. He hated the fact that he had to conform to the snakes of Dorne. But he knew he had to. He was right about the finances. They were direly in debt and the Lannister gold mines, after 8000 years of exploitation, had finally run dry. And the rumors about his grandchildren mattered more than the facts, he knew. The Tyrells were his only reliable allies at the moment. The Riverlands and the North were held by turncloaks, who would easily betray again if they felt the Lannister name weakened. The Vale was held by a child and a woman, by all accounts half-mad, and rumors were that they hated him as well. His arranged marriage between Baelish and Lysa Arryn would not keep them in line. Proud lords of ancient houses would never take orders from a Lannister-backed nobody like Littlefinger. The Stormlands were pacified, but also useless, and the Iron Islands still in open rebellion. And any moment that Stannis Baratheon still draws breath is troublesome. He needed Dorne back into the fold, especially now with the rumors of dragons in the east. Dragons that would soon look west.

The smirk on the man's face clearly showed he knew he had the upper hand. For the first time ever in this room, Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King, will have to make the concessions. So the lord of Casterly Rock asked the Dornish prince:

"What do you want so that Dorne remains in the fold?"

"Straight to the point I see. Good. The company of my aunt's killer is hardly pleasant anyways. One - I want the Mountain's head. How you deliver it I care not. And you best deliver, lest I decide to seek satisfaction elsewhere. Two - that seat on the Small council will be held by one of my cousins, lady Nymeria Sand, she is to be the Dornish representative to the court and she will be respected. Three - I want Sansa Stark."

"Whatever for?" That last demand...

"To dress her in motley and make her Sunspear's jester.", he laughed. "What do you think I want her for? I want her as my bride. The future ruling prince of Dorne and lord of Sunspear needs a wife."

If only Jaime shared the sentiment. But that woman is property of House Lannister. "Sansa Stark is betrothed to my son, Tyrion."

"That woman, as you so eloquently put it, is too tall and of too gentle and noble birth for your dwarf to marry. And as a family that has suffered from Lannister cruelty one can sympathize with her situation..." _Now that awfully felt like a threat._

"You will give her to me. But you don't have to be too grim about it. Let's speculate. I suspect that you understand that the North will never accept the backstabbing House Bolton as lords paramount. So you were planning to replace them eventually with a son of Sansa's with Lannister blood in their veins. Clever. But you are missing the fact that they hate you even more that they hate Roose Bolton. Chances are that the Boltons will remain in power. Your attempt to put your grandson in Winterfell will end bad. Either Tyrion Lannister will be assassinated by the Northerners or they will rally behind the Boltons in another revolt. Either way, you will lose the North again. If Sansa is my bride, she will become Sansa Martell, Princess consort of Dorne, and she will be as far away from Winterfell as possible. No threat to your hold over it. And with her being the last Stark known to still live, your problems are solved."

Tywin was baffled. The man, who can't be more than twenty years old had just shown himself to be quite intelligent. Unexpected of Dornishmen. He will make a useful ally. Surrendering Clegane is a small price to pay for making peace with House Martell. Blaming the man for the murders of Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon will solve that issue. His deductions indeed proved to him his long held doubts that the Stark girl will be only a problem and this was a good way to solve it. Much better than giving her to the Tyrells. The Martells hate the Tyrells. They will balance each other out. It was perfect. And if the person on the small council will be a bastard of a Martell or a pure Martell, he wouldn't really care. Besides, he couldn't afford to have Dorne as an enemy. No foreign army could hold the place, just like the North and the Iron Islands. He needed to create Dornish goodwill. If that was the price, then so be it.

"We have a deal."

* * *

Varys loved emergency council meetings. Everybody else was panicking. _What has happened? Are we in danger? Who has died?_ He, on the other hand, was always well informed and so once again knew what it was about. Helios Martell of Dorne. He must have met with the old lion by now. Oh, how Varys wanted to be there. To see the lion tucked into a corner, forced to submit. But alas, he was not there. Private meetings and all. The so-called Savior of the city should think it a blessing it was so. Varys hated the man with a passion. 'Savior of the city'? What a jape! The man sacked the city, less than 20 years ago and now he 'saved' it. It was his son, Tyrion, that did the saving, but why care? If all of Varys's schemes came to fruition, the little lion will be the last Lannister by the time it was all over and Daenerys Targaryen sat the throne of her ancestors. He had done his research and the woman was just what Westeros needed. But it will be years before she was ready for Westeros. Now was still the time for intrigues.

"You can't mean it grandfather!", the king all but shouted. "She is mine to do with as I please. That Dornish swine cannot take the king's property." Varys hated the man with a passion. He half-hoped that Helios will kill the man 'by accident'. The Dornish prince was a deadly warrior and, while not a fighter himself, he was certain that the Kingslayer would have lost against him, even when he still had two hands. Watching him eviscerate the cruel monster with a crown before him would be a pleasure. The golden bastard was, despite all his bravado, just a coward. But that alas won't be happening anytime soon.

"I mean it. No more of your stupid little games, boy. Sansa Stark is getting shipped to Sunspear after your wedding and that will be that. Now sit down and act like a king."

"You can't talk to me like that. I am THE KING!", he all but spat at them all. 

"Any man who must say 'I am the king' is no true king. You will remember that when I have won your war for you."

"Father.", the queen mother's eyes pleadingly tried to calm the situation along with her honeyed tongue. "In this instance, Joff is right. The little whore is a traitor's daughter. You can't reward her by marrying her to the Dornish heir."

Tywin gave her a bored look: "I can and I will. You two have misused all the Starks at your disposal. You, " pointed at Joffrey "killed Ned Stark, a man who could have prevented the war altogether, and you" he pointed at Cersei "lost us Arya Stark and let your son humiliate the last Stark, thanks to which all of Westeros thinks us barbarians and tyrants. We can't have that. The last time there was a man, perceived as a tyrant, sitting the Iron throne, we had a civil war and a dynasty change."

And how fitting that your grandson and entire house will follow the Mad king into the grave. It took a long time for Varys to realize his mistakes. He should have accepted prince Rhaegar's plea to help overthrow his father. Varys loved Elia Martell, the first person in the royal court, and possibly ever, to show him kindness. He loved little Rhaenys and her lovely company. Why did it take him so much time to figure it out? But Elia and Rhaegar still had living kin and Varys would help them as well as he can. Daenerys was shaping herself into a perfect ruler, learning how to rule in Slaver's bay and freeing slaves wherever she went. An act that showed Varys just how much the young woman is truly worth. And the Martells were his allies since the day, when he went to Sunspear, where he 'helped' Jon Arryn to forge peace. Arryn was a good man, competent and yet so utterly naïve.

"It seems that our good master of coin will need a new wife.", quipped Littlefinger, the slime ambitious little man. One day, I will see you dead, my lord. Until then, my heart will be kept warm by the fact that I completely ruined your plans for Sansa Stark, when I whispered into Prince Helios's ear of Sansa Stark's plight. The young prince, called the Rising Sun, may present himself as a cruel and unpredictable man, but Varys knew that he was a rescuer also and had naught but fierce hatred for injustice.

"If only we could be satisfied with you licking Lysa Arryn's cunt, my lord." the imp quipped. "Alas we need Dorne as well. After meeting with Prince Oberyn, I discovered that Dornish opinion of the crown is currently...quite low. House Martell needs to be placated."

"Fully agreed. For once. So enough of this! The matter is settled. I called you solely to inform you all of the recent changes. Council is dismissed. Tyrion, you may go inform lady Sansa of her situation."

* * *

Sansa was in despair. She was all alone now. Father dead, mother dead, Arya and Bran and Robb. Her whole family was butchered by the Lannisters. And she was to be their toy forever. Married to Tyrion Lannister, of all people. She didn't think that he would abuse her, but he will be incapable to protect her from Cersei and Joffrey. And she will remain here...forever.

Her silent crying was interrupted by her future husband entering her bed chambers.

"My apologies for interrupting you, my lady.", he must have seen her swollen eyes, but she couldn't care less.

"It is fine, lord Tyrion. I am fine.", she lied. "Is there a particular reason for my betrothed visiting me?"

"Yes, my lady. I am to inform you that we are no longer betrothed."

"So even you will discard me then, lord Tyrion?", she tried to prevent herself from watering her eyes again.

"No, my lady. I am afraid that you are being denied to me. As of today, you are betrothed to Prince Helios Martell of Dorne, the Heir to Sunspear.", he stated to her obvious shock. Whatever has changed now?

"What? But why?"

"It seems that my father has finally bowed to other people's demands. As amusing as it was, I apologize for your life and maidenhood being treated like this."

"Thank you, my lord. So...what is that man like?" What was her new owner like is what she wanted to ask, but remained polite.

"I don't know really. He has my undying admiration for tying my father's hands like this, but as to his personality I have no clue. But we shall learn soon enough. The good news is though that you are leaving the capital after the royal wedding."

Sansa was sold again. This time to a Dornish men. Could she hope for her new future husband to be a second Arthur Dayne or would he be just as bad as Joffrey? Would her hopes of a happy future be crushed again? If the Gods, she no longer believed in, had any mercy, then it will be the former.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do you think? It won't be a slow burn, but love won't appear immediately either. Sansa is a tormented and used by others person and Helios is not without his scars either.


	2. Wolf meets sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helios's first POV  
> Introduction of Oberyn, Ellaria and the Sand snakes. Don't you just love these girls. The BOOK version, these are.  
> Sansa meets Helios.

Sansa couldn't sleep in the evening. Not that she has slept well since her father's death. At first, she prayed that Robb would burst through her doors one day and say that she is safe. Her mother would embrace her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, telling her how it is all over now. How they had found Arya and she was safe, for in truth she missed her wild little sister. She dreamt of Joffrey's death, his head removed with father's sword. Ice in the hands of her brother, the King in the North. And yet, none of it came about. The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Those were her father's words. And yet, now the lone wolf was alive and captured, while the pack was skinned and butchered. 

During the battle of the Blackwater, Sandor Clegane, the brute called Hound, had offered to spirit her away from the capital. She had refused. Why? She never could agree with herself as to the reason. The real reason for her refusal. Sure, he was unsightly but he was the kindest man in King's Landing to her. He never lied and rescued her from the rapists of the capital, who would have no doubt also ended her life. Why refuse then? Some faint hope that lord Stannis would win and set her free himself? Maybe. Back then, she had already realized just how important she was to those who wished to hold the North. Her father was the first man to support his claim, so surely he would treat her nicely, no? He would have used her as a puppet ruler of the North and probably marry her to some southron lordling to gain hold of the North. The uncertainty perhaps? That man could be as bad as Joffrey, or worse for all she knew. But did these thoughts pass through her mind back then or....

Doesn't matter. She has a new husband to look forward to. Prince Helios Martell of Dorne. She knew that the man was the heir to Sunspear. But naught else. At least she will be leaving after the royal wedding and never see Joffrey again. She pitied Margaery for having to marry the monster, but at least Sansa will be far away. People in the capital rarely spoke a good word about Dorne, but they said the same of the North. _Maybe that means that the Dornish are good people then?_

Sansa hoped her logic was sound. When she was invited to have lunch with Margaery and her willy grandmother, the sharp-tongued Olenna Tyrell, she accepted. No doubt they would express their distaste for her future husband. 

Since the Dornishmen arrived in the capital for the Royal wedding, Sansa heard more Dornish jokes than she has heard before. Most of them cruel and not entirely full of wit. It was no secret that ancient feuds between Reachmen and Dornishmen still held sway. Nevertheless, the Tyrells had to suffer their presence. Given how lord Tywin had consented to break her engagement to lord Tyrion, Sansa suspected that the old lion wanted to make peace with the family he had wronged near as bad as hers 20 years ago.

A marriage of two people who have suffered at Lannister hands. Well, it could be worse.

She met the Tyrells at the gazebo, where they usually met. Loud music was being played by the singer, so the spies, sure to lurk around, would hear nothing. Sansa has learned that here even the walls had ears.

"Ah, my sweet girl.", Margaery greeted her, as if greeting an ignorant child. _Honestly, it is better this way. Let them think, I am still as ignorant as the day the silly Sansa Stark professed her love for Joffrey-called-Baratheon._

"Good morning lady Margaery, lady Olenna."

"Oh come, come now, dear. There is no need for all the usual pleasantries. Come sit. We have heard the news."

"No doubt you are disappointed."

"Nonsense, my dear. Well it is true, we hoped that you would become my sister-in-law, but perhaps it was simply not meant to be.", Margaery replied, but Sansa knew what honeyed words are.

"It was a doomed plan. The moment the lions caught whiff of our plan, it was doomed. We could never sway them to agree, until after the wedding. But look at the bright side. Your husband is tall."

"I would rather he be kind, too."

"I would not know my dear, though I hear they call him 'the cruel sun'.", said lady Olenna. _Doesn't sound very endearing._ But before she could show her shock, Margaery corrected her grandmother:

"Now grandmother, you are scaring her. You have misheard the Dornish. They called him 'the rising sun', not 'the cruel sun'." 

"Ah, how silly of me. Still, not much of a difference, no?" _Of course it is different, you wicked old harridan._

"Pardon, my grandmother. She hates Dornish."

"That Viper crippled Willas."

"It was an accident, grandmother. Even Willas sees it so, only you and papa don't."

"Doesn't mean I have to suddenly fall for them. Dorne and Highgarden have been at each other's throats since long before the Conquest. But it doesn't matter. Whatever the case, he is to be your future husband. And you - Sansa - will be princess consort of Dorne one day. From one pit of snakes into another. Though in all due fairness, the Dornish ones seem to be less poisonous."

"And you Margaery will soon be queen.", said Sansa trying to change the subject.

"Yes.", she replied calmly, but Sansa knew that Margaery understood the kind of man Joffrey is. "Still, certainly we will have many opportunities to meet again, no?"

"Oh absolutely." Not. If seeing Margaery meant being close to Joffrey, Sansa would rather never meet her again. "Speaking of, have you seen my future husband?"

The queen of thorns smirked. An action which never bode well. "Oh, yes my dear. Look behind you. There are snakes in the garden." 

And so Sansa turned around and saw her future.

* * *

"You are a cunt.", he woke up and saw Nymeria, Obara and Tyene staring at him. How did they get inside his bedchamber? Why are those the first words he hears, when he wakes up?

"I am a dick. A cunt would be, if I were a woman. Which is why you three are cunts."

"Is that how you speak to your cousins?", he turned around and saw his uncle smirking.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ALL DOING HERE?"

"Easy there, sunshine.", smirked Tyene as she jumped on the bed and seductively sat on his belly. _No smallclothes is turning into a bit of habit for her. All my cousins are sluts. But I love them all the same._ "We just wanted to yell at you a bit, is all."

"Is all? For what?"

"For humiliating Tywin Lannister without us present? You could never share, nephew. Speaking of, Tyene dear, please unsaddle your cousin."

"But it is so comfortable..." she mewed with that sweet little voice of hers that has preceded many brutal deaths.

"Get off already. I am getting married, you know."

"I heard. Another example of your selfishness. I bet you are never going to share her with anyone."

"You got that right. Not unless you can seduce her that is."

"Is that a challenge?" 

"No. Stop putting these thoughts in my head, Tyene. Get off."

"Fine, fine. Sheesh. A shy, innocent maiden such as myself cannot enjoy herself.", said his short haired, golden-haired cousin and elicited the soft laughter of everyone present.

"What?", she asked innocently, but got off him after he started moving about. "Am I not a chaste maiden?"

"Just as much as your father and I are, sweetling.", replied Ellaria. His father's longtime lover was like a mother to the three women here, the fourth, masquerading as a novice at the citadel, and a real mother to his uncle's four youngest daughters. Something of a mother to him, too ever since his real mother left for Norvos.

"Have you met your betrothed yet? You know, the one your father did not want you to marry."

"Not yet, Tyene kept me busy last night."

"Playing cyvasse, papa. Sheesh, Helios, this is why I have such a bad reputation."

"No, you have such a bad reputation because when you are invited to supper, everyone must have a food-taster close by."

"That happened only once and he was a cunt."

"Yes. And instead of quietly disposing of him you had to make him put his head into the soup, after you poisoned his wine on my homecoming feast. You are taking too much after Obara."

"Oi."

"Stop it.", Oberyn shouted. "You" he pointed at him "dress. I heard that your betrothed has breakfast with the bloody roses. You might as well get acquainted with her already. And you" he pointed at Tyene "will have to stop sneaking inside your cousin's bed. At least until we make Sansa one of us. I won't have the poor girl wonder what kind of crazy people we are. Project "Turn the tormented Northern girl into a proud Dornishwoman, fit to be Helios's consort" is now on.", he spoke theatrically. 

"Fine. But Nym must also not get inside his bed then."

"What? You are bedding them both?", Ellaria replied surprised. _Mostly Tyene actually. Nymeria is spoken for, if the Fowler twins have anything to say about it. And it was only once...or twice. Such a weird family we are._

"I prefer to call it, mutual satisfaction of primal desires, caused by lust, by using our cousin's prodigious lovemaking talents.", replied Nymeria and Tyene nodded. Obara sighed.

"What?", Helios asked. "I am no saint. Or a monk. Regardless, I have every intention to make the woman I marry happy AND keep her so. I like making people happy, you know. Some people at least."

"Yes, but do you know what you love the most cousin?, asked Obara. "To rescue people in danger. Especially women, our knight in shiny armor. How did that go last time?"

He gave her an angry look. He hated being reminded of fresh wounds. Of that. His scarred back was proof enough of that. His greatest failure. _I will not fail. Not her,too. Never again._

"I am sorry.", she apologized.

"A rare thing for you to say, sis." Nym said. 

"Get out. I am going to get dressed and then go see my future wife. I think it time I had a chat with her."

"Fine. Just don't get lost.", said Tyene. _As if._

After getting dressed in his rich silks, he strapped Kamigami-no-shi to his belt. _As if the cursed blade would ever leave me alone._ Once ready he strolled out of the room and went towards the gardens. Easier said than done. The castle was huge, larger than Sunspear. And much more unpleasant. Still, he has seen larger castles. The palace of Bu Gai in the city of Yin was larger than King's Landing. _And I had to sneak out of there, half dead, my back bleeding like a river._ And this place too, is filled with people the blade wanted to taste and so did he. The Lannisters. The people who had killed his aunt, Elia. He still remembered her, even though he must have been 5 or 6 years old. She was family. And he was a Martell. One that needed to sate his bloodlust. But that could wait a while longer. After telling his father of his plans, he had forbidden it for he had his own schemes:

_Trystane will rule after me and you will marry Daenerys Targaryen and rule the Seven Kingdoms._

_I will do as I like. We will be her first allies here. She will need no marriage to me. I have decided father._

_Stop losing yourself, boy. Once you walked into a hell pit in order to save a woman and now you do the same?_

As if I have forgotten. _Bu Gai...It has been a year since I killed you and I still want to hear you scream for me._ A broken heart and a curse gained. That is all I found in The Golden Empire of Yi Ti in the end. 

"You really got lost, didn't you.", he heard Tyene giggle at him. "You can sneak out of a city after killing its ruler, but you can't find your way to the girl." _Cursed be the day when those two got me drunk enough to tell them everything._

"I suppose you know the way, then?", she nodded. "Lead."

Soon enough they found their way into the gardens of the Red Keep. Nice place. If only it weren't filled with spies. By the time they reached the gazebo where they spotted Sansa Stark, he saw at least 7 different people following their movements."

"Who do you think they belong to?"

"Lord Varys, Littlefinger, the Lannisters… Doesn't matter. We have to be careful of what we speak around here. They say Dorne is full of snakes, but this place is crawling with them."

"The irony..." Still, one of those snake was an ally. It was lord Varys who had informed him of poor Sansa Stark's plight. And ever the rescuing moron, Helios went straight into the lion's den and pulled the lion's tail and tied it in a knot. _But it sure was fun. Having powerful despots at my mercy does put a smile on my face._

"Lady Sansa, lady Tyrell, future queen of Joffrey Bratheon. Forgive the intrusion."

"Not at all." replied a woman, presumably Margaery Tyrell. "And it is Baratheon, not Bratheon, your highness.", she corrected him.

"My bad. My apologies, my lady.", _I simply thought it fitting._

"No problem. Please, let me introduce you to my grandmother, lady Olenna Tyrell."

"I would say it is a pleasure, but when one meets a snake in the grass, one doesn't say so."

"Oh, this is the queen of thorns.", Tyene said with an innocent smile. "I didn't think she would be so ancient."

"Well, dear bastard, I have guided my house for a great many years before your father put you in some whore's belly.", lady Olenna returned the verbal assault.

"Since the Conquest, perhaps?", returned the slap Tyene. He didn't miss the giggles that left the lips of Margaery Tyrell and Sansa Stark.

"As amusing as this is to watch, please stop."

"Why? Can't you see that two women are just having a conversation here?", asked Tyene.

"I fought off a war band of Jogos Nhai. This is scarier. Stop.", he silenced her. "So" he turned towards the red-headed woman "you must be Lady Sansa Stark. It is a great pleasure to finally meet you."

"Great enough so that you take her hand in marriage without even having met her once?", quipped the old harpy.

"My lady" he asked softly "can we talk as we have a walk across the gardens? I have the feeling that there are roses here trying to prick my eyes out."

"Of course, my prince.", she said and they left the Tyrells behind, while Tyene followed them from a distance.

She was beautiful. Red hair, though more auburn than ginger. Blue eyes. Tall, so tall. Slightly taller than him, actually. Beautiful without a doubt.

"So, my lady, what do you think of me?"

"I....I do not know what to think. I just met you."

"And yet?"

"I was first betrothed to the king. Then to lord Tyrion. I...don't have much luck when it comes to marriages."

"A vicious bastard and a drunken, whoring dwarf. I prefer to think of myself as improvement."

"King Joffrey is..."

"You do not have to lie. Not here. And not to me. I want us to be honest with each other."

"But...everyone has ears here."

"Not for long." He turned his head in the direction of Tyene, who was pointing a knife at the balls of a way-too-listening-and-not-working gardener. "Oops. Someone is about to lose their ears. Or something a bit more dear to heart." The man fled as fast as his legs could carry him and two more followed suit. No amount of coppers can replace a missing cock.

"So?"

"Lord Tyrion was kind to me. He protected me from King Joffrey's cruelties. The king....he is a monster, he, he...", the tears started coming from her eyes.

"Easy there. He won't ever hurt you again. I promise you that." _She is not used to being brave. To speaking her mind. But she will learn. I will teach._

"How can you promise such a thing?", she said through her tears. What has this city done to this poor woman?

"Because I can. Because, unlike almost everyone in this cesspool of a city, I do NOT fear anyone. Least of all a weak, cruel, Lannister puppet." And that is the truth.

"Why would you take a traitor's daughter to wife?", she asked.

"Traitor is...a difficult to understand word. Trust me, i know. But...mostly...because I feel that you are in need of a rescueing. And I am many things, but that above all. And you are not the only person who bears scars, you know. Mine run just as deep, if not more so."

"Everyone is a liar here. How can I trust you?", she asked, wiping the tears from her reddened eyes.

"Because, I swear to you, that one day I shall present to you Joffrey's head on a silver platter, my sweet red wolf. I will never marry you against your wishes though. That is not our way, the way of Dorne. Men and women are equal there, unlike the rest of Westeros. We have our own ways and I swear to you that i will make it my life's mission to make you smile. And I am not without my flaws either. I am just as damaged as you are, my lady. If not more."

He meant every word of it.

"So, my fair lady, I, Helios Nymeros Martell, Prince of Dorne and Heir to Sunspear, son of Doran Martell, Ruling Prince of Dorne and lord of Sunspear, ask you this: Will you marry me?"

"Yes.", she said, looking him still in the eyes. "Yes, I will. And do you prince Helios Martell, swear to always look after me, to protect me? Upon your honor as a Martell and future lord of Sunspear?"

"I hoped that you would add 'love me'. I doubt it would be a challenge to love you, my lady", she was obviously trying to hide a smile. _Progress, good._

"Yes.", he added before she could say something. "Yes, I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kamigami-no-shi is his sword's name. It is a katana with a very ancient story behind it. It's name translates to 'death of the gods'. The sword will have a big role in this story.  
> Yi Ti is like the ASOIAF franchise version of Japan/China/Korea. So, I have taken great inspiration from Japanese culture when I am gonna talk about Helios's times there.  
> As for his relationship with Tyene and Nymeria...it is mostly the occasional lust. Sansa/OC is main, but remember, we are speaking about Dornish. They are not so conservative and WILL teach Sansa to relax......among other things.


	3. Inside the nest of vipers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martell diner  
> Lannister plots  
> Must be Tuesday

Tonight Sansa was having supper with her future husband's family. Her first meeting with him went well. At least in her view. The way he acted and spoke...it gave her a sense of security. She felt safer, as if the sun shone upon her in a cold day and kept her warm. She also got to meet one of his eight cousins, lady Tyene Sand. She seemed sweet and courteous, but Sansa had recognized that this façade hid a poisonous viper. That was made obvious by the way, she secured their privacy. 

_All the Dornish are fierce._ she told herself. _I remember how Arya wanted to be born Dornish, when we were little._ _A great admirer of Nymeria of the Rhoynar._ She even named her direwolf after the great princess of Dorne. Now both sister and wolf are missind, presumed dead, and Sansa is to become a princess of Dorne. The irony was not lost on her.

In that moment of privacy with her future husband, with Helios, she came to a decision. She had nothing more to lose, so why not try. A last shot at happiness. She would be a fool not to take it. And if he would deliver her vengeance for those she had lost at Lannister hands.... The Lannisters will face justice. 

But she needed to learn more of Dorne. She had to, as future consort of the Prince of Dorne. Her mother always said so. _If only she could be there for the wedding._ The marriage ceremony, she was told, would happen after the royal wedding, in Sunspear. It might have been foolish, but Sansa could not stop herself from daydreaming. Happiness might happen after all, even the Lannisters stayed away from her, or rather they simply did not pester her with their demand to attend their breakfasts and suppers. So, with free time, she decided to go to the Grand Maester to look for a book on Dorne. The shrivelled old man was a lickspittle of the Lannisters, she knew, but he was not rude to her. Nor was she doing something against them so she went to him and asked for a book on Dornish customs.

"Lady Stark, I have but two on the subject.", he said sounding old and decrepit and tired. "I can offer you "The Life in the Sands" by maester Comrin and "True facts of life about Dorne" from Archmaester Evereen. The last one is part of a collection, there are variants about the Westerlands, Reach and so on..."

"And what of the other?", she asked.

"Oh, it is written by a minor maester, born a bastard of House Dalt, I believe, my lady. But archaester Evereen is hails from House Lannister."

House Dalt. She remembered a knight from the Dornish party, whose name was Dalt. _So, this 'minor' maester is Dornish, then_. 

Sansa chose "The life in the Sands" and left the small chamber, where the Grand Maester worked. The book was surprisingly well written. She read the whole tome in a single day. What caught her attention was that the Dornish were as different from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms as the North was. The page, that said that bastards were not despised in Dorne, reminded her of Jon. Her father's bastard son. The sullen boy, so despised by her lady mother. _If only he were Dornish, he would have thrived. If only I had the chance to meet him again. To ask his forgiveness for emulating mother. For treating him with disdain. For being a naive stupid girl._  
 _There was a page about paramours._ People in Dorne, due to difference in rank and station, could not always marry for love. But unlike the rest of the realm, they had paramours, who were as close to a legal wife as one could be. The children were still bastards, but such relationships were not frowned upon and in fact, having a paramour was considered perfectly normal. _So he may take lovers and dishonor me as he pleases?_ No, Sansa had to forget what her mother had told her. That was Dorne, it was different there.  
She searched for married men having paramours and discovered a most shocking passage : _A married Dornish, having a paramour, is honor-bound to inform their spouse of the relationship. Married couples, sharing a paramour is not uncommon. A famous example includes Princess Alyrra Martell, who alongside her husband ser Dromos Dayne, shared a paramour in lady Joselyn Blackmont. A loveless Dornish is the same thing as spotting a mermaid - an exremely rare occurance._  
  
That was...interesting. At least, she would always know if her husband found himself a lover, but...share...with...her... 

_Living in Dorne is going to be interesting._ Sansa imagined herself in bed with Helios and his cousin Tyene for a moment and quickly banished the thought as improper. _But...being surrounded by so much love. There is something very sweet about all that. Sweet...and tempting._ Perhaps it feels so because of all her time in King's Landing.

The dinner took place in prince Helios's private chambers. It was a spacious room, more than she expected. It had a balcony, overlooking the harbor. At the table were present Prince Oberyn, Helios's infamous uncle, lady Ellaria Sand, Oberyn's paramour, Tyene and two of her half-sisters. After the introductions were over, she took a seat, to Helios's left, who himself was sitting at one end of the table, opposite his uncle.

"So, lady Sansa, I gather you have already been introduced to my nephew?"

"Yes, prince Oberyn. He is very courteous."

"And only that?", he smirked. "They say he is the most handsome man in Dorne. The Rising Sun of Dorne, they call him."

"Uncle, stop it. I will blush.", Helios said dryly. 

"I do hope he is a man of his word.", Sansa said more silently than she intended.

"Oh, that he is. If he says, he will do something, he does it.", Tyene said. "I remember when we were little, father dared him to ever venture outside of Sunspear's walls. And in the end, he sailed for YI Ti in the far east."

"I had heard such tales.", Sansa admitted. "Perhaps, my betrothed could share some stories of his time there."

For a moment, there was silence. Some of the others were staring at each other and Helios himself looked glum, as his smile faltered. _Did I say something wrong?_

"Yi Ti.", he began. "A land of mystery. A vast realm of great plains and dense jungles and mythical beasts roaming the countryside. Magic still holds sway there. The people have strange customs, at least to us. They claim to be the oldest civilization in the known world, did you know? And they have written records to prove it.", no one interrupted him. Perhaps he rarely speaks of his time there. "Ruled by a God-Emperor, supposedly descended from the living gods that ruled the Golden Empire's predecessor state - The Great Empire of the Dawn. Nowadays, there are three such people, each of whom holds no power beyond their capital's city walls." Similar to what Westeros is undergoing now. "Well, now it is two. I killed the last of the azure emperors, Bu Gai. Condemned as a Godslayer and an Apostate, I was forced to leave the country by my own allies, for as they said 'my presence polluted the land'. As if I had any desire to stay there."

"But...why did you kill him?", she asked, captivated by the story.

"Because he killed the woman I loved before my very eyes, while torturing me for his own amusement.", he shrugged. "He thought himself a living god, an immortal, a ruler bearing the Mandate of Heaven. I proved him wrong, when I drove my sword through his heart. Remind you of someone?"

Joffrey.

"I am sorry for your loss. I too have suffered at the hands of tyrants."

"Yes, his Grace. Our king. It is as if I never left Yi Ti."

"It is over. You are home. Put the past behind you and move on.", said Oberyn.

"Easy for you to say. You are not the one, haunted by a cursed sword, that begs you to feed it blood."

"What?", Sansa was baffled.

"This.", he pointed towards the blade, lain on the far end of the room. "is Kamigami-no-shi. Loosely translated from ancient YiTish, it means 'death of the gods'. Allegedly, this blade, this katana as it is called, was used during the Blood Betrayal, when the evil Bloodstone Emperor slew the rightful ruler of the empire of the Dawn, his sister, the Amethyst Empress. Her soul trapped inside it, still screams for justice and revenge. Eager for bloodshed. If you think me mad, just touch its hilt. Trust me, you won't like it."

She looked upon the blade. It was exquisite, she had to admit. It was different from the swords in Westeros. It was sheathed, so she couldn't see the blade itself, but judging by the shape, it was no a straight blade. The hilt was thin and long, golden and ending in the shape of a strange beast, resembling a dragon. The whole hilt was covered by what looked like black rope, in a way similar to how Westerosi swords had leather covering their hilts.   
The sword had an ominous feeling to it, even from a distance. As if it was swallowing the light around it. It was creepy, to say the least.

"If you hate it so much, why not just dispose of it?"

He laughed. "You think I have never tried. I have tossed this accursed sword from the ship, sailing back to Dorne, more than two dozen times. It is always back."

"Okay, enough drama for one night. So...lady Sansa, are you impatient about the Wedding?", lady Ellaria changed the subject. 

"I am glad about leaving this city.", she admitted. "And moving on."

"Well said.", added Tyene. "Listen Helios. Take after your future wife."

"Well sorry. You lot should know that that subject is unpleasant for me.", he said, now relaxed.

"I am sorry for causing you pain with my inquiry.", she apologized. She and her curiosity.

"No, no, no. You will be my wife. You need to know this story. We need to know each other's story. And we here....we are all family. We do not bow, we do not bend, we do not break."

"Don't you feel a bit useless here?", lady Nymeria asked lady Obarra. 

"A bit.", Obarra admitted. "Next thing, these two are gonna start making out on the table."

"Next thing, Obarra,", Helios finally reacted. "you and Nym are gonna fly off the balcony."

"Then please, keep your sad tales for later.", added Nymeria.

_We have both suffered a lot, it seems..._

And so Sansa learned more of her husband's past ills and their supper continued unperturbed. 

_Perhaps soon I too will gain the courage to tell him all that has happened to me since father died...._

* * *

Tyrion used to despise small councils. But the Dornish certainly added flavor to them. After the Martells left for Sunspear, one of Oberyn's bastards - Nymeria Sand, will take the Dornish seat. Until then, it would be Oberyn himself who would sit there, right across the Fat flower of Highgarden.

"So what am I a master of now? Coins, ships?"

"Lord Tywin and I have determined that I would be master of ships.", he replied furiously. _As if you are capable for anything but kissing father's ass. But he is the son of lady Olenna, born Redwyne, aunt of the lord of the Arbor, who has the largest fleet. After the Greyjoys that is._

Soon enough, father strolled in and all rose from their seats. All, but Oberyn. The man cared not for father's authority, to Tyrion's endless amusement.

"Any news of importance?"

"Yes, my lord. Lady Arya Stark has safely arrived at Winterfell." It is as if Tyrion was living in an different world, where the Starks and the Lannisters were friends.

"I am sorry, what?", Oberyn reacted. "I was told that lady Arya Stark was dead."

"Missing, to be accurate.", the Spider corrected. "Since her father's execution. Dead most likely, but it is unconfirmed. What nonsense are you spouting Littlefinger?"

"Oh, but the whole North is soon to go to Winterfell to witness lady Arya's wedding to Ramsay Bolton." Formerly Snow, Roose's bastard. Not that this detail made the thing more sensible.

"Arya Stark is marrying Roose Bolton's son and heir.", father confirmed.

"How did you found Ned Stark's other daughter?", asked Oberyn.

"We didn't." replied Littlefinger as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh." it dawned on him. "You are presenting someone else as her."

"Indeed.", his father gleefully confirmed. "Her name was Jeyne Poole. She used to be a handmaiden of lady Sansa, but went 'missing' during Ned Stark's treason."

By missing, he means that Littlefinger took her. What was that pervert planning?

"She knows the Starks and Winterfell intimately. She is also of similar age to the Stark girl and the looks are similar also. Children grow and change so much at such tender age. Who better to play the role of solidifying Bolton and Lannister rule in the North?" A genuine Stark, for instance. Not that they had an available one. Sansa luckily managed to escape such a fate, for Martell would keep her close by. It seems that father still has some schemes up his sleeve.

"Would the Boltons accept her, when they find out she is fake?", he asked.

"That's the beauty of it. They know she is fake. All they need is the name Stark for the boy's bride and we shall graciously provide it. Others will suspect as well, but what of it? Most will believe what they want to believe. And besides, it will be for the Boltons to figure out what to do then, no?", his father replied. "Any news of Stannis?"

"He is at Castle Black.", the Eunuch answered first.

"Doing what?"

"Defeating the wildling army that almost breached the Wall. And now, it seems that he is plotting to defeat the Boltons in order to gain the support of the northern houses."

"He will need a Stark for that and the last one is here.", father said and then briefly looked at Oberyn. "We will not have any problems there, I hope?"

"Oh, no not at all.", Oberyn cheerfully replied. "Once that Royal wedding is over, we are going even farther away - to Dorne. My nephew shall marry Sansa Stark in Sunspear, in view of all Dornish nobility."

"Good." 

His father seemed pleased, but Oberyn's smile scared the shit out of Tyrion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Yi Ti facts are from the books info, some things are original. Mandate of Heaven is a Chinese term, that is the same as 'by the Grace of God' that western kings use. The sword is my personal invention.  
> The Jeyne Poole plot is from the books, where she plays Sansa's show role with the Boltons.  
> And yes, the Northern events will be explained, but it will be background events.


	4. A little bird no more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The romance deepens. Plots are made. And events move forward towards the royal wedding.

The big day was tomorrow. Not Sansa's though. Sansa will marry her prince in Dorne, in front of all the Dornish nobility, after the royal wedding. Margaery's wedding. _The irony was just...._  
Not too long ago, Sansa came to the capital to marry a prince and now she was still going to do so. But another prince. A better prince.   
It has been a week since the Martells arrived and she met him. A week to start getting to know each other.

 _"My scars run deep",_ she had told him, when she decided to tell him everything. How her father was killed before her very eyes. How she was forced to watch his severed head, the abuses from Joffrey and Cersei. The scars on her back, from all the lashes the Kingsguard had done on behalf of the king. She had turned her back to him and removed the top of her dress, revealing the scars left from the lashes. Despite the way he made her feel, she was still nervous. Nervous about the way he was going to react.   
She shivered in her bedroom, half undressed, awaiting the denial and loathing she had grown accustomed in this wretched city, until she felt soft lips over one of her scars. And then the next, and the next, and the next...  
 _"Don't. They are ugly."_  
 _"There is no part of you that is ugly. Just wounded. Hurt._ _Unappreciated."_ , he said, all the while tracing kisses around her back. _"Turn around"_ , he added and she did, still covering her breasts.  
He also removed his shirt and revealed his own scars. Sansa was horrified at the wounds, inflicted upon his light olive skin. _"Lingchi. Loosely translated, it means death by a thousand cuts. They didn't reach that number though."_ His back was even more scarred than hers. Their physical wounds had healed, but the scars remained. He turned around and she removed her hands from her chest, emboldened by what had transpired in her bedchambers, and pressed her chest to his and kissed her prince.   
He was much more skillful than she was and made her feel light. Made her forget the past for a moment. She was no longer in King's Landing. There was just the two of them.  
They spend the night together, wrapped in each other's embrace, trading kiss after kiss. They remained with most of their clothes on, just their upper bodies being exposed. He lavished her breasts and lips with kisses and made the night special. Contrary to what she expected, he did not initiate anything else. Not that she was naïve enough to believe, she could have denied his advances, if made. But he didn't and somehow that made her fall even harder for him. Her Dornish prince. Her Helios Martell. Her Sun.

"So, how was your night, my lady?", Tyene asked, her being something of a constant companion these days. Shae trailed behind them, while they strolled to the keep's corridors, hand in hand, like most of the ladies of the court.

"Very well, I slept rather nicely.", she lied. Sansa was certain she hadn't slept at all. And yet, she has never felt more refreshed. 

"Judging by the way you shine today, I would say that you indeed did.", Tyene said in her innocent voice. Her new friend looked like a Lannister, but acted nothing like one. Playful, teasing and occasionally threatening to others, something told her that her soon to be cousin-by-marriage was just as dangerous as her spear-wielding half-sister Obara and the-ever-armed Nymeria, whose flowing silks concealed more than a single blade.

"Oh, sweet Sansa. I recognize that blush. It is the same I had, once upon a time.", Sansa just stared at her, taking a while for realization to dawn in on her. _So my suspicions were correct._

"I did read about Dorne. And paramours."

"Please, don't tell me it was "True facts of life about Dorne" by that Lannister cunt. The only true thing in that book is the way he spelt 'Dorne'. I mean the guy says that Dornishmen fuck out into the open. That's complete bullshit....mostly."

"No, no, no. I read "The life in the Sands"."

"Oh, that's better. No fiction, written by some pervert, who has never even set a foot in Dorne. So...what?"

"Well, I read that Dornish have them. Paramours, lovers. Are you..."

"No. Well, yes. And no. Though most likely, yes"

"That is the single most twisted answer I have ever heard.", she laughed.

"Well, he is the first man I ever fell in love with. I had my first time with him.", she answered more silently. "I still care very much about him. And there are some lust-filled nights still. But...seeing the way he looks at you like a lost puppy, I imagine those are over."

"Not necessarily.", she whispered into her ear. She didn't really mind sharing him, every once in a while. Her mother must be spinning in her grave, but since she has been reading that book, she had fallen in love with the Dornish way of life. A life of freedom and so much less restrictions. She had been controlled her entire life. Even before the Lannisters, there were her parents, her mother specifically, who demanded she be the perfect lady, meant for making little 'princes and princesses'. And princes specifically. To be, as Arya made fun of her, 'prim and proper lady Sansa'. To be nothing more than a broodmare, as maester Comrin had described the life of ladies born north of the Red mountains. In Dorne, her daughters won't be just tools to broker marriage alliances or a sign of shame to her, nor being able to make a son. In Dorne, her daughters will be loved and respected. And if she bears a daughter before a son, or only daughters, then the future ruler of Dorne would be a woman and no one would care. The silence of septa Mordane, when she had asked her for such an outcome, will haunt her no longer.

"Sansa Stark, we will make a true Dornishwoman out of you yet."

* * *

Jaime' son was getting married tomorrow. Not that he had a son. Not in the sense that mattered. He never raised him or held him when he was little. Cersei would never allow him. _No one can know or even suspect. They would be in danger and so will we._ The irony was not lost on him. The whole realm knew now. Everyone who has seen Robert and the children in person knows that they look nothing like one another. They were all Lannister - emerald eyes, curly golden hair and all. Tommen even looked like a miniature version of Jaime, who will hopefully fare better than his sire. Joffrey was ever spiteful and that glare he gave on occasion....  
Jaime could swear he was looking into the purple eyes of Aerys. _Not Robert the second, but Aerys the third,_ Tyrion had quipped once about the boy and Jaime couldn't help but agree. _He means as much to me as the next bit of squirt in Cersei's cunt._ Whomever it may belong to these days. For he was no longer allowed inside. _You are no longer the person I know,_ she had said. _Then how is it that I am more myself than I have been since before that 16-year-old Kingsguard knight drove his sword through the back of the Mad king._

That boy at least could swing a sword though. This Jaime Lannister cannot beat a stable boy with his left hand to save his life. Not that his right hand has ever brought him much good. The same hand, which stuck his cock inside Cersei's wet cunt and used a sword to kill, wound and maim whomever he felt like wanting gone. But that hand also protected Jaime from his enemies. Now he couldn't even handle the pathetic excuse for a Kingsguard that Joffrey has.

As he was standing by the seaside, a woman approached him. The biggest, strongest and ugliest woman of them all. "Ah, Lady Brienne. Good of you to come and join me on such a sunny day."

"Spare me that ser Jaime. We have a vow to keep."

"What vow is that? Remind me."

"The vow to return lady Sansa to her mother and family."

"Her mother is dead, her family is dead and soon enough she will be Sansa Martell, as far from her ruined and occupied by enemies home as she can be."

"But..."

"She will be safe there. She hates my family, let not her quite advanced skills in mummery fool you, and the Martells do so as well. She will feel right at home there. And what can you do otherwise? Where else would you take her?"

"To her aunt. She still lives."

"I regret to inform you, but her aunt, as my brother and her former guest can testify, is not exactly of sound mind. She will be in danger there still."

"So...what am I supposed to do?", _oh my honorable foolish former companion._

"Join her in Dorne, if you like. I do not know why the Martells demanded her, but she will be safe there. Even now, she is surrounded by vipers who soon will be her kin. Take heart, my lady, your vows are kept. With or without your assistance."

She left him afterwards and returned to his thoughts. What was he going to do with his life now? What was Cersei? Just as Joff was to marry Margaery, Cersei was to marry her brother. A man who loved only...men. Probably one of the few men in the Seven Kingdoms Cersei can't get wrapped tight around her clit. Still, he loved her. Such was his curse. She would never willingly marry the knight of flowers but father insists. _To take Highgarden for House Lannister._ As if Olenna Tyrell or Margaery are ever gonna let that happen. If he were to find a way to go with Cersei, to guard her, perhaps they would be able to repair their relationship. But if not, Cersei would most certainly not have another child and in the end Highgarden would go to one of future queen Margaery's numerous cousins after Loras dies without issue. Or to one of Margaery's children. Whatever it was, he knew one thing - history would soon be written not by House Lannister, but by House Tyrell.

* * *

Helios and Sansa sat next to each other on the balcony in his bedchambers. He had ordered for one of their minstrels, a boy of the orphans of the Greenblood, who was loyal to him only, to sing very loudly a Rhoynish song. The point of it all was so that no one will hear them discussing poisons, he intended to use to murder the current king. It was a strange sight. Ever since the night of their...exploration of each other's scars, they had started spending much of their time together. Surprisingly enough, despite the current king's horrid personality, there was no trouble coming from there. Even Cersei Lannister, the soon to be former queen, was staying away from them. He half expected that they would send their pathetic excuse for a Kingsguard to harass Sansa, so he had moved her bedchambers to be just next to his. In the end there was no need for him to present the head of any of the white armored cunts to the king.

The king was another matter. He was Sansa's monster, the center of her nightmares. She had to watch him die. Besides, apart from his mother, no one will mourn him. His grandfather might even rejoice at being able to replace him with 8 year old Tommen, ever so pliable little boy still playing with kittens.

"It is still strange. How can you plot so calmly?", she asked.

"I killed a god-emperor remember? Killing an illegitimate king is hardly difficult, but the point is not to be suspected of it."

"They could still find out."

"Apart from Cersei, none of the others will care much. And the Lannisters need me, so they won't dare accuse me of it. Or anyone else from our family." He wanted to keep reminding her that she was no longer without a family.

"If you say so.", she replied still looking worried. "I just do not want you to get in trouble because of me."

"I will pretend I didn't hear that. As if I care about getting in trouble. The brat has enemies all over Westeros. And I am one of the few of them who has made peace with the Lannisters." He continued flipping through the pages.

"The Strangler...too showy. The Long Farewell...inappropriate. Devil's Dance...takes way too long. Tears of Lys...somewhat standard but...should do the trick. Plus it leaves no traces."

"So that will be it?", she asked.

"Yes, tears of Lys to precede to tears of his mother, while she watches life fade from her eldest son. The same way as she made you feel as she executed your father. And he will be murdered at their own wedding, just as they butchered your brother. I do so enjoy poetic justice."

"This may make me sound cruel, but I will enjoy watching this. They deserve it.", after spending a week in their company, the little bird, chirping whatever would keep her alive was gone and now before him stood a red wolf. His Red Wolf. His Sansa. His Princess."

"Funny, when I came to the capital for the first time I thought that I was going to marry the prince and become a queen.", she smiled as she leaned her head on his shoulder. She was a little taller than him. But somehow that made her even more endearing to him.

"And so you will be. My queen. Queen of Dorne."

"Princess of Dorne, Helios. Or are you forgetting the proper title. Besides, Kings die so often these days. Princes on the other hand....."

They both chuckled on that, after which he chased away the minstrel, his purpose complete. He had the chosen poison in his stash and tomorrow they will watch a king die. _What a romantic I am!?_

She was perfect and she was his. _My Sansa. My wedding present is already here. I am a man of my word after all_ , he thought to himself, while watching the sunset.

* * *

Olenna hated the capital. Just as much as anyone with a nose. _And to think that because of that oaf that came out of my belly, my favorite grandchild will have to live here..._   
She had planned for the Stark girl to marry Loras, but the bloody Lannisters and their surprising Martell allies ruined it. _The spider....He lied to me. He must be in league with Dorne. How not? I do not believe for a second that the Dornish have ever forgiven the Lannisters for what they did to Elia Martell and her children. No, the snakes are coiling themselves around the lion's neck and are ready to bite it off any day now._

Not that Olenna didn't seek the end of Lannister power, but this was now connected to Tyrell power. _Loras can never marry Cersei Lannister. And even if he does, I can get rid of her easily, once the lion bitch is in Highgarden. '_ Accidents' happen all the time after all. Myrcella Baratheon is in Dornish hands and as for little Tommen, well the boy will play his part. _The only thing that connects Varys and House Martell is their allegiances 20 years ago. That means only one thing...they are plotting with the exiled Targaryen queen._ Olenna had heard some interesting things about her. Many tales of varying content but two constants - a beautiful young woman and three dragons. Before long, she will turn her eyes to Westeros and Olenna was not stupid enough not to know what that meant for the Lannisters and their Baratheon puppet regime - fire and blood.

Olenna had to plan for the future. She needed to secure House Tyrell's future. One with or without House Baratheon of King's Landing in existence. And she needed to use her dear granddaughter for both, as much as she was ashamed to admit. She needed Margaery to play the part of the queen, beloved by the people. She fit that role so easily. So smoothly. Olenna was so proud of her. _One way or another, my dear you will have a future. Under whatever regime, I will secure it._ As it stood now, the Lannisters were going down. While she could betray the possible Dornish design to Tywin Lannister, she had no proof and everyone knew that the Tyrells hated the Dornish. Plus, it hardly would change much, only make things more complicated and completely bind us to them.

The best thing to do was to create a way to make House Tyrell's potentially needed change of allegiance a smooth one. To prove her loyalty. And what better way than to murder the eldest 'son' of Robert Baratheon, the Usurper. Not to mention the fact, that Olenna would never have her granddaughter married to that little monster. She has seen the scars of Sansa Stark's back and had no desire to see them on Margaery's as well. Joffrey's death was needed and Olenna knew the perfect ambitious man to help her through with it. 

Which is precisely why she was meeting with the man so late at night, in one of his many establishments no less.

"You took your time, lord Baelish.", she told him. For a nobody, he has elevated himself quite well. Using the Lannisters to become lord of Harrenhal and marry Lysa Arryn.

"My apologies, lady Olenna. I am a busy bee. But I bring what I was asked.". he revealed a fancy ring.

"I asked for something else. Is this a game to you?", she barked at the up-jumped whoremonger.

"Yes, it is.", he smiled. "But this is it. This stone" he revealed how the fancy ring's rock was hollow and revealed some purple dust inside "contains the poison known as The Strangler. A very effective one, if I may add. I think the color will match your eyes, my lady."

Clever, she had to admit. While wearing a poison on your finger sounded a bit silly, it would do the trick. She will have to time it properly. "I don't need your flattering, my lord."

"If I may be so bold, who would take the blame?"

"Not you, if that's what you are asking.", as much as she would have liked to do so, she had to pin it on someone who would be easily accepted as the murderer by all who would investigate the regicide. The Dornish were appealing, but she knew that Tywin Lannister would be grateful to replace the unruly Joffrey with the pliable Tommen and would never risk his alliance with the Martells or the Tyrells over it. Sansa Stark would be considered the likely perpetrator and would no doubt be blamed by Cersei almost immediately, but she is to be Sansa Martell, Princess Consort of Dorne, so Tywin would not allow it.

_We two rival houses are all the old lion has...how sad._

The best person for the frame-up is the one person both sister and father want to see dead, more than any other man living.........a certain dwarf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think? The purple wedding is on the horizon. And two different people plan on poisoning everyone's 'beloved' king.  
> Sorry, but Tyrion still gets the blame, but then....  
> Sansa gets on with the Dornish quite swiftly I know, but lets be honest, getting so much freedom all at once certainly is enjoyable. Though maybe slightly OOC.


	5. The Purple wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title implies it no?

The most extravagant event in the last 50 years. As master of coin, it was Tyrion's job to find funds for the bloody event. Fortunately, the Queen of Thorns was convinced by him to cover half of the costs. Much of the nobility of the Seven Kingdoms is going to come and drink to the king and his new queen's wedding. As if any of them really cared. A race to give your most expensive wedding presents to the king, that's what this is. A place to socialize and drink and eat through the royal treasury's already dwindling finances. All the wedding needed was a couple of witnesses and a septon, but no they had to make a show of it. 77 courses, my sister is as crazy as her bastard is. Still, they had to obey royal commands, even if they were given by a vicious idiot, whose sole reason for being in power was that he was the son of the last moron to sit that ugly iron chair everybody is drooling after. And the big irony is that he is not even that much. All the realm suspects it and most of them were here now. Expecting to forget it all once Tyrell strength was joined to Lannister strength.

If only Cersei had opened her cunt for Robert at least once in order to leave one legitimate child. One black haired boy with a brain in his head, was it too much to ask for?

Not that any of it mattered. The boy will rule till the day he dies. Or rather until somebody kills him. Tyrion was no fool. These nobles here were all gathered to watch his wedding with a smile plastered on their faces, but could watch his funeral with the same expression if they felt they had to. If they felt they would benefit from it.

The Tyrells simply wanted Margaery to be queen. And alas for that they needed a king.

The Martells and Sansa, who is already as good as one of them, will be hoping for Joffrey to choke on the wedding pie. That is if they do not help him with that. And I do not know whether to be afraid of such an outcome or to open a bottle for it.

Baelish was still here, ever the plotter. One with an unhealthy obsession with Tully women. Mother like daughter, but this one is guarded by some very poisonous snakes. Wonder how that would turn out?!

And the other less interesting guests would just laugh and smile at everything.

Alas Tyrion's biggest problem was the woman before him. They were in his bedchambers now, away from prying eyes.

"Listen, it is no longer safe here for you. You have to flee."

"I told you I am not afraid of your family."

"You should be, Shae. My father makes no idle threats. And I am certain he knows about you. About us.", he was certain of it. The looks that Cersei threw at him, when he was talking to Shae just minutes ago...

"So what, you do not love me anymore is that it? Shae, the funny whore, is no longer needed."

"Stop it. You know full well that this is not how I feel about you, you insufferable woman.", he stood up on his bed and leant in to kiss her. Couldn't she understand that he just wanted to keep her safe. He couldn't bear to have her suffer the same fate as Tysha.

"Then, what? We never see each other again?"

"We will find a way.", he said, but sadness evident on his face. _I have fallen in love with a whore. And yet I love her still._ "Until then, you will be safe in Dorne, as Sansa's handmaiden."

"Promise me that you will come to me again. PROMISE!", she almost cried.

"I promise. We will find a way. Until then, just stay close to Sansa, alright?"

"Fine.", she acquiesced. "But you better keep your word, Tyrion Lannister."

"I will. A Lannister always....", she slapped him on his cheek and kissed his lips.

After that, they returned to the wedding and just as discussed, she stayed closer to the Dornish tables.

"You did the right thing, my lord.", said Lord Varys who as per usual had sneaked right beside him. The man walked like a cat. "I know that your relationship was not one of just between a whore and a taker. It was true love, no?"

"She will be safe there. The Dornish won't harm her. And if anything, she might be lucky enough and forget about me. I won't have her die on my behalf."

"Take heart, my friend. Perhaps, this is not the end for you two.", he said in a tone that surprised him. _What is this man up to?_

"And how can you tell? We live in a world, which submits to laws made by a madman. A madman, who perhaps has his own religion. A very nasty god. I do not expect a happy ending."

"Don't be so dramatic, lord Tyrion. This is a wedding. Don't be so glum. You will enjoy yourself, of that I am certain."

* * *

The wedding wasn't half bad. The wedding ceremony itself was not a long one. The High Septon said some words, cloaks were exchanged, kisses given and it was done. But the feast afterwards.....  
It was absolutely extravagant. So much so that it was absolutely disgusting. The realm starves and these idiots are wasting food. No wonder the Lannsiter gold mines have ran dry. House Martell, ever since the Rebellion, has kept an eye out for any weaknesses they could exploit on the Lannisters and apparently, thanks to some Westermen miners, who talked too much after getting some drinks, they had learned what is perhaps the Lannister's biggest secret. They had ran out of gold. It had happened three years ago, give or take, when many Western miners had lost their jobs. Even before then, there had been a report in decrease of mined gold. Not that it was shocking. The mines of Casterly Rock have been explotied for 8000 years. As enormously wealthy as those mines were, they were bound to run dry eventually. And Sansa glees at that. They deserve it. All of it. A slow death for the Lannisters. 

Fortunately, she and her new family were seated far away from the wedding table, where spots were reserved only for the Lannisters and the Tyrells. She sat on a table with her Sun and Tyene. It might have been meant as a slight, but she quite preferred to be away from Joffrey. Especially when he was to drop dead. The plan was timed meticulously. At first there was some brief show of resistance coming from Prince Oberyn but then:

"So you want to make her an advance wedding present?"

"Yes. Will you help me arrange this?"

"But of course. What kind of an uncle will I be, if I did not assist my favorite nephew with a little bit of mischief?!"

So in the end, they got his support as well. After he praised his choice for poison, Oberyn said that he would take care of the rest. Leave it to the professionals, he said. And now, they were waiting. The wedding was a tedious affair, elsewise, but at least they got to try many different cuisines. Sansa had never seen so much of it in one place and was going to enjoy herself at the expense of the Lannisters.

"Lady Ellaria seems to be having fun with the queen.", Sansa quipped while watching Ellaria and Cersei trading insults from a distance. Veiled little word play that was amusing to watch, but not something Sansa particularly excelled at.

"Poor thing. She used to be the queen consort, then the queen dowager and the queen regent and now just the queen mother. She must have been every type of queen there is."

"Not every type. She wants power. Real power. Gods forbid she ever takes it, elsewise she will ruin the realm."

"Mhm. Still, it won't matter much. That woman can never claw her way to the Iron throne."

"Let's talk of something else.", she said, trying to change the subject. "Tell me of Dorne."

"Well, after the wedding is over, we leave for the Water Gardens, where we will meet with my father. He is a bit of a schemer himself, but not a bad man. He lives in the Water Gardens because he prefers it there, the climate is better. Sunspear is a lovely place. Dorne is a bit dusty to be sure, but one easily gets used to it. Sunspear is also by the sea and is close to the Free cities, so we have an abundance of exotic goods in the markets of the shadow city.

"The Shadow city? Sounds mysterious."

"They call it so, because it lies in the shadow of Sunspear, which looms high above it. The shadow city is larger than a town, but still smaller than cities like Lannisport, Oldtown or King's Landing. It is somewhat like a labyrinth of markets and small buildings."

"Well, after King's Landing, I am looking forward to seeing it. What is Sunspear like?"

"It is a large castle, not as large as the Red Keep, but near. It is built in Rhoynish fashion and has two primary towers - the tower of the sun and the spear tower. The Spear tower is for prisoners, the Tower of the Sun is where we will live and eventually hold our own court. A part of the castle is the Sandship, the original Martell stronghold from before Nymeria, which looks like a dromond. Though Sunspear actually the buildings around it, given that nobody lives in the old Sandship anymore, except for the occasional guests, that is."

"Sounds lovely to me. But it also reminds me that I most likely will never see Winterfell ever again."

"One can never know. Perhaps the opportunity will present itself.", before she could ask him what he meant, he spun her around and kissed her. And she could almost forget about the Lannisters nearby. Almost.

* * *

"Ahh, young love.", Prince Oberyn quipped, though Cersei knew that he did not mean her son and his sow, but the Stark bitch, whose making out with the Dornish whelp. 

Cersei was furious at the fact that Sansa escaped their clutches. That traitor's daughter does not deserve to become the wife of a lord paramount. Even of a squalid place like Dorne. _And she would even get to call herself 'princess', the stupid little whore. She most likely has already lost her maidenhead to him or to that Dornish whoretaker before her. And the worst is that my sweet girl is in their hands. She should at least rule Dorne, but no Tyrion, ever the fool, betrothed her to a second son who inherits nothing. He is evil, pure evil that has been plotting the downfall of our house since the day he was born. Since the day he killed mama. That..._

"Do you remember what it is like to be in love, lady Cersei?"

How dare he..."It is queen Cersei, prince Oberyn.", _Don't you dare insult me you snake!_ Cersei would have made a fuss over it, but her father will not allow it. 

"Ahh, true. But I hear that soon enough you will be married to the future lord of Highgarden. Or is it not true anymore?"

"She will be wed to Loras Tyrell a fortnight after the royal wedding, prince Oberyn.", her father confirmed her worst fears.

He had told her that at the same time he told Tyrion that he would marry Sansa. But unlike her, Tyrion got away from his engagement. And Sansa Stark got out the best of it. Sunspear and a Dornish cock for her throat to gag on. She had hoped that the stupid girl would be in tears for having to marry the Dornish, but it seems savage peoples can understand each other well enough. And look at her. She is happy. Why? Why when Cersei had been denied happiness? She should have been married to Rhaegar. Her silver prince, who would have made her forget Jaime. Jaime who now has proven to be nothing but disappointment. He runs of to fight in a stupid war and comes back not only emptyhanded but also one-handed.

"If you will excuse me.", she said in order to slip away.

Cersei tried to forget about the others. It was her Joffrey's day. His wedding. She didn't like the whore of Highgarden, but at least Joffrey did. He seemed happy enough. Perhaps, Cersei will be able to ignore her. But what of Loras? The man fancied only men, true, and she will most likely need bed him only once. Even that alone made her nauseous. She must find a way to get rid of him quickly after coming into her own power as lady of Highgarden. Perhaps she could arrange some horrid fate for that dusty old cunt and her oafish son.

* * *

"You will have to excuse my daughter's behavior, prince Oberyn. She has grown too used to being the only queen around here.", Tywin hated to have to apologize, least of for his own family's misdeeds.

"No harm done. Watching your daughter squirm was enjoyable by itself, Lord Tywin. Some people can't handle facts very well.", quipped his bastard paramour, Ellaria Sand. The snake had chosen a pretty lover, who did not get ugly with age, Tywin would grant him that much.

"And what of the Mountain, my lord? I seem to recall that my nephew extracted more than a single promise from you." _More like blackmailed._ Tywin would have praised it, if it were one of his own blood to manage to do it. Alas, it was someone whom he would have to keep at arm's length.

"He is to travel to King's Landing as soon as his business in the Riverlands Is done." Tywin had no desire to rid himself of such a useful tool to spread fear with, but it was a cheap price to pay for Dornish fealty.

"I am glad. I look forward to meeting him.", said the viper of Dorne.

Tywin left to observe the wedding. He was not one to indulge himself in all this extravagance, no matter how the Tyrell matriarch had urged him to. _The woman is a schemer on part with himself and if nothing else, making certain that she was not getting Sansa Stark was a reward for him as well._ He was no petty, but the Tyrells kept on demanding power for themselves. 

Tywin sat at the royal table, beside Cersei. Joffrey and Margaery were in the middle and beside each lined their kin.

Joffrey received his gifts. And the greatest one, of course, was that of House Lannister - a Valyrian Steel sword, freshly forged. It was actually part of the sword Ice that used to belong to House Stark. He had the monstrously large sword melted down into two longswords - one for House Baratheon of King's Landing and one for House Lannister of Casterly Rock. He had kept the other blade for Jaime, but the boy took it as an insult, given his mutilation Tywin should have predicted such an outcome. So he kept the sword for himself and named the blade 'Legacy', for this is all that Tywin has ever fought for, his house's legacy. _And this one shall not be lost by an idiot_ , Tywin swore. 

"Thank you, Grandfather. It is truly a wonderful present. Now, everyone, how should I name it?", he addressed the guests. "10 Golden dragons for the best name."

The fool couldn't even name a sword, much less rule a country. But Tywin was old now, in his 57th year of life, he knew that his chances of educating his great-grandson were slim. He had to do his best on that one.

Noticing the look on Sansa Stark's face, he assumed she had already guessed where the blade came from but it did not matter. _I won. Not your house, or your brother. You best remember that girl. Be your husband's broodmare and trouble me not._

The last one was mostly a prayer to the Gods than anything else, for he knew that feelings had already developed between the future lord of Sunspear and the disgraces daughter of Ned Stark. Right now, he hoped that the Bolton will be able to beat Stannis. The man had no more than 15 hundred knights at his back and no more than a few dozen ships. The Boltons should have about 5000 men alone. Even if none of the other great houses of the North supported them, he knew that the Roose Bolton could skin the Stag, especially with Winter almost here. Stannis was followed by southron knights, whereas Roose had Northmen. In winter, the latter was worth 10 of the former, especially in the North. If Bolton wins, his power and mine will be secured in the region. If not....

"Widow's wail. An excellent suggestion.", his grandson, who until one had been playing with the sword as if a toy, shouted out at one of the suggestions. _A terrible name, completely tasteless. He could have named his sword Wolfsbane with the same success. Keep on alienating your vassals and they would revolt in the end._

 _Not Robert the second, Aerys the third._ Tyrion's words echoed in his head. Even Aerys did not start a war in his first week of rule. Joffrey is in a league of his own. If not for Tywin, the boy would be dead and Robb Stark or Stannis or Renly would be sitting here now. Most likely getting married to the same girl. Margaery reminded him of Cersei, ironic given both women's dislike for one another. Both wanted a crown. But unlike his daughter, Margaery understood an important lesson - being adored by the lords had its advantages over relying on fear and authority only. Tywin was not a man to inspire love, only fear. But Cersei....she had so much potential.

"Here, an entertainment for the crowds. And not just that...a history lesson as well. Enjoy!", Joffrey announced and his 'entertainment' was revealed. To Tywin's, and many others, disgust. _How could she let him do THAT?_

On the podium, came five mummers, each dressed in the likeness of one of the five man who recently put on crowns. One for Joffrey himself and one for Balon Greyjoy, Robb Stark, Stannis and for Renly Baratheon. It might have been a somewhat decent entertainment, but for the fact that they were all dwarfs, riding pigs and only bumping into each other. A clear mockery of his youngest son. Tyrion might have been the shame of Casterly Rock, but was still a Lannister. And this...

Someone requires a sharp lesson. Perhaps, this very night. No one humiliates a Lannister without paying the price for it. A Lannister always pays his debts. 

"How could you let your boy humiliate us like that?", he whispered to Cersei, but his tone made his feelings abundantly clear on the matter.

"I didn't know.", she excused herself. "Let him have his fun, papa. It shouldn't last too long."

That did nothing to pacify Tywin. Tyrion, who sat beside him, whispered to his squire Pordick Payne, to give some gold to the dwarfs who were made to do it. Dwarfs who actually hurt each other in the performance. _Too soft. Always. If Tyrion was not such a whore taker and so soft, perhaps I might have made you my hеir._ Tywin knew of Tyrion's new whore, the one he told him to leave behind at the Green Fork. And he didn't. Cersei asked to have leave to have her hanged before Tyrion, but she was Sansa Stark's handmaid and was to leave with her soon, he hears. So, because of this shameful performance, perhaps Tywin will give him a pass, just this once.

The Pigeon Pie was brought in front of the Royal table and Joffrey and Margaery went to cut it open. With Joffrey's new sword. _Valyrian steel to cut open a wedding cake? What kind of an idiot that boy is?_

The Pie was savagely cut open and several of the birds ended up dead. Another waste. The two spouses started to feed each other soon after.

"Uncle, I want you as my cupbearer. Come here." And yet another humiliation upon Tyrion. Tywin was hardly surprised. If his son's tongue was more guarded, perhaps it wouldn't have come to that. But Tyrion always spoke too much. Be it to lords or kings. _His greatest weakness._

Tyrion took the wine jug and poured Joffrey another glass, but then something happened. The king started coughing.

"Koff, koff, uncle, more wine, koff, koff, koff.", Joffrey began to cough more violently with each attempt to speak.

"Somebody help him.", Margaery shouted as the boy started to claw at his neck, desperate for a breath of air.

"Idiots, help your king!", Olenna Tyrell shouted as well.

"My boy." Cersei pushed him aside and rushed to his side. But it was not use. The boy's face turned purple, his eyes got red and soon enough his coughing turned bad enough that he could no longer speak. All he did was point towards Tyrion, who only looked on in shock as the king died.

"It is you. It has to be you. It has ALWAYS been YOU. Arrest him", Cersei shouted through her sobs. "Arrest this monster, which murdered the king. My son. My eldest boy. ARREST HIM!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wedding remains the same. For those who are wondering whose poison worked in the end, it was the Strangler of Olenna, because the tears of Lys take effect more slowly.  
> I wanted to reveal some of Tywin's inner thoughts, which I was always curious about in the show/books.


	6. The trial of Tyrion Lannister

Being in a cell is not a new feeling to him. Tyrion has been in the sky cells of the Eyrie. At least here there was no chance of him flying off to freedom in death, while sleeping. That type of freedom he can do without. And for what is he imprisoned?

For the murder of the saintly king Joffrey Baratheon, son of Cersei Lannister and.... Oops, state secret. The boy was going to be another Mad king that would most likely have put the last one to shame, but let's blame the imp. He is evil, for he speaks to the king so rudely. He dares to counter his every word. He dares to prevent him from torturing little girls. He is oh so evil. The wicked Tyrion Lannister. I guess kingslaying runs in the family. Except for one thing....

"I DID NOT DO IT!", he shouted at the innocent rat that had scurried into his cell. The poor creature hid back into its hole. _At least you can look forward to tomorrow. My fate is to be decided tomorrow. Or soon after. They do not keep Kingslayers waiting. Death most likely._

The worst thing was that everybody eagerly believed that he killed Joffrey. As if the whole country does not despise the boy. Did not, rather.

He received few visitors, but the boy Podrick who delivered him some vital things. Some paper, cheese, a little bread, you know things that they do not give out around these places. Jaime nor any other member of his sweet family did not even bother to come here. To check on their disgraced family member. He will meet them at the trial, he believed he would receive.

"You have a visitor, Imp.", a guard barked and tore him from his thoughts. The door opened and his visitors came in. Jaime Lannister, a fellow Kingslayer, a real one though. Sansa Stark, his would be wife, who is not to be his wife. His...former companion in Lannister caused misery. An odd pair.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Another Kingslayer. And the lady Sansa. Come to give your old acquaintance a last goodbye?"

"Don't be so dramatic, Tyrion. You are not going to die.", his brother said.

"No, I am sorry, I know I am new to kingslaying, but are they giving rewards these days. Am I to become the newest member of the Kingsguard?"

"You certainly deserve a reward, lord Tyrion.", Sansa whispered. 

"Alas, I am not the one to hold the honor of killing the king. For you see, I know something that no one else knows. I did not do it. Seems like the real killer is still on the loose. And my sweet sister will miss him or her."

"Oh, yes. We know.", Sansa replied. "Your sister was all too convinced that you and I plotted it together.", _I still suspect you, my lady_. "Alas, your father said that there is no evidence."

"Of which there is plenty to convict me.", he japed. They had no real evidence, he was certain, alas evidence could be forged. "I am certain that it is being created even as we speak."

"Stop it Tyrion. There will be a trial and we will learn the truth.", Jaime said. Ever the fool. And the only reason he did not kill Joffrey.

"Oh, my silly brother. If you think that this trial would be anything more than a sham, you are a fool without equal." Especially with judges like father and his newest subordinate Mace Tyrell. 

"He is hardly wrong, ser Jaime. Even as we speak, witnesses are being bribed and threatened to say all sorts of things about you. And....you don't have many admirers, my lord."

"Then why are you two here? From my earlier conversation with Pod, I deduced that I will have no witnesses."

"I am already called as a witness to the crown, but lady Sansa could vouch for you.", she nodded at Jaime's words.

"I will, though I doubt my words will sway anyone. The way I see it, prince Oberyn will be your only impartial judge but I doubt one vote against two will help you." 

"He might have been the one to actually do it."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, you know full well that it matters not who did it.", _It may be you, my lady. But fret not. Get me out of this mess In one still breathing piece and I will forget you got me into this mess in the first place._

"Yes, I do. Even if the real murderer confessed and gave irrefutable evidence of his guilt, it won't matter to Cersei. She won't stop till she sees me dead. And father is just the same."

"Then what are you going to do?", asked Jaime. _At least one member of his family who thinks me innocent._

"Before telling you that... lady Sansa, is she safe?"

"Who?", asked Jaime.

"She is. She is under my husband's protection. And Cersei does not have claws, long enough to pry her from us. We will keep her safe, my friend."

"Friend? My, my, lady Sansa. A Lannister is your friend?"

"You are the only person who treated me kindly in this city before my prince arrived, lord Tyrion. I will repay my debt." _Well, at least one thing I did right. And it might just save me still._

"In that case, I will most likely be charged guilty. I think we all know it. I will demand a trial by combat. It is my only chance to save my skin. And I know that my dearest family will send the Mountain to fight for them. I also know that my brother, without his sword hand is useless.", Jaime gave him a wry smile. "Can you perchance lend me some fighter strong enough to take him on?", it was more of a jape really. He knew that there is no one as good as the Mountain, but he also knew that prince Oberyn was lustful for vengeance. A slimmer of hope, her smile ignited.

"I believe I have that person. He is eager to fight the Mountain, I believe.", she confidently said.

"Could he defeat the Mountain?"

"He is your only hope for survival." 

And he knew she was right. _Oberyn Martell, you are my only hope._

* * *

The funeral of Joffrey Baratheon was quite pleasant for Sansa. Looking at the bastard, who tormented her, who killed father. Dead. Ready to rot in his grave. He deserved to be thrown to the dogs to eat him, but this was good enough. The problem was that they were not the ones to kill him. By some ridiculous coincidence, someone else had poisoned Joffrey at the same time with a faster acting poison. 

_"It must be the Strangler, judging by the effects. The Tears of Lys take a day or two to kill someone under the mask of a mysterious illness."_ prince Oberyn had clarified. 

She was slightly disappointed, their efforts put to waste. But he was dead, so....

Nobody particularly mourned him, apart for his mother. The High septon said a bunch of prayers about his soul, how good and wise a king he was. _He had no soul, he was evil and stupid._ she told herself. 

_You will soon be forgotten._ Tommen's coronation took place the same day. Tommen of House Baratheon, First of His name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. With the Baratheons being a new dynasty, all of them were first of their names. And all of them were bad kings, from what Sansa could tell. Joffrey was Joffrey and Robert was, by her father's tales from when they were still together here, was not interested in ruling. Tommen was a sweet child though. Still only 10 years old, his grandfather was proclaimed Protector of the Realm, Lord Regent and Hand of the King. _And now Cersei was reduced to Queen Mother. Hopefully with no power._

Margaery looked glum, most likely because she won't be queen, but Sansa doubted the Lannisters would discard the alliance. Most likely, Margaery will be marrying her third Baratheon king soon enough. _They are getting younger and younger._ Sansa couldn't help but inwardly giggle at that.

Helios and herself spent the whole afternoon in his chamber, kissing each other. They wouldn't do anything more than that before the wedding though. Back when she was betrothed to Joffrey, she was scared of losing her maidenhead, having heard the stories of the pain. But with him.....she felt safe. She felt secure. She felt home.

On the evening before the trial of lord Tyrion was to take place, she went there to meet him. She wanted to help him, just as he had helped her before. Sansa knew that the trial would be set against him, so she told him to ask for a trial by combat. His brother, ser Jaime, had thanked her for offering help. The man must be the only Lannister to love Tyrion. She promised a champion who could defeat even the Mountain. And she had an eager one - prince Oberyn.

The trial of lord Tyrion was currently proceeding and was going in the direction everybody knew it would. A multitude of witnesses, all confessing to things that made lord Tyrion look bad. Most of them confessed to seeing him with the jug of wine, from which he poured inside the king's cup. Astonishing that none of them ever mentioned that it was the king who ordered him to do so.

Some, like ser Meryn Trant, a man on her to-kill-list, also expressed how Tyrion threatened the king's life and Meryn's and called him a halfwit. At that point, Tyrion retorted with the reason, namely Sansa's abuse, but Tywin Lannister swiftly silenced him. People can't defend themselves it seems.

Finally came Sansa's time to speak. Most in the court, Cersei mostly, were eyeing her, knowing what she could say. After all, they all have seen Joffrey torment her. 

"Have you seen the king's wine being poured by lord Tyrion?", lord Tywin began his inquiries. 

"Yes, my lord hand. At the king's order, lord Tyrion became his cupbearer.", she answered, wanting to remind them of the fact. Still, she knew that he had to be announced guilty. For she had been the one to try to kill the king. Her joy of watching Cersei squirm was endless.

"And have you heard him threaten the king before?"

"Yes, your Grace. I have. However what any of the witnesses failed to mention was why. He called the king a vicious idiot because he was the indirect cause for the bread riots. After all, it was the king who ordered his guards to start attacking smallfolk after a cowpie was thrown on his face. And when he was threatening the king, well, I believe before that the king had been having a defenseless young highborn woman, being stripped and beaten by his own Kingsguard. My memory fails to remind me as to her name, but her face ought to be familiar to all gathered." She really wanted to say that. It was unwise and dangerous, but she wanted to say it. She wanted to defend the only good Lannister in the world. And she was so tired of all the hypocrites in the capital.

"HOW DARE YOU?", Cersei shouted. "How dare you tarnish my poor boy's good name?"

"King Joffrey was a most gracious king, my lady.", Pycelle, ever the lickspittle, added.

"My apologies to the grieving queen mother and all the court. I forgot that telling the truth was a crime around here. But is it so even during trials, my good judges?"

The court buzzed like a hornet's nest. Prince Oberyn openly laughed and Sansa swore she could see pride in his eyes at her, as well as in the eyes of her Sun and his cousins. Lords Lannister and Tyrell on the other hand were fidgeting in their seats, with lord Tywin particularly frustrated. _Yes, my lord. That is the man for whom you waged wars. For another Mad King. I hope you choke on it._

"Have you anything more to add, my lady?", he asked after calming the crowds.

"No, my lord. That is all.", she went back to her seat.

"That was magnificent.", Tyene congratulated her.

"You made this farce quite the show, my lady.", added Helios.

"Well lord Tyrion. Do you wish to confess?", lord Tywin asked his son.

"Well first of all, I want to thank lady Sansa, the only honest person to take the stand. A round of applause, please.", nobody joined his clapping, but many smirked, not only the Dornish here. "And now, yes. I confess. I confess to the crime of being a dwarf, a most monstrous crime, I am sure you would agree."

"You are not on trial for being a dwarf."

"Oh, please father. I have been on trial for it my entire life.", he turned towards the court. "I saved this city and all your worthless lives. I saved your sons, Cersei. When Stannis was at the gates, I held him off long enough for daddy dearest to come lift the siege, even though nobody will ever admit to it. And no, I did not murder your vicious bastard, but I wish that I had.", he literally spat at her and the audience roared in their typical shocked sounds they made. "Watching your vicious bastard die gave me more relief than anything beneath the sun."

"Have you nothing to say in your defense?", lord Tywin asked again, obviously frustrated as Sansa watched him grip one of the many sword handles on the throne so hard, she thought he would break it off.

"Nothing but this. I did not do it. I did not do it. But I have always known it would end like this - my death at the hands of my family. I only thought it would be for a crime I have actually committed. But no, instead it is for the death of Joffrey of the houses Baratheon and Lannister, First of his Name, blah, blah, blah....." A dreadful silence filled the halls, as everyone stilled their breaths, waiting for the argument between father and son to continue. "BUT I know that I will get no justice here. This is King's Landing after all, the city where innocents die by the scores - be it women or children, little babes included; so I will let the gods decide my fate." his voice was filled with mockery "I demand a trial by combat."

"Fuck you, father. Fuck you sister. I will not go down quietly."

* * *

Getting back to his cell was a bit of blur to him. He remembers how mad Tywin and Cersei looked. How pleased he was to see that. And Sansa's defense. The little bird is truly no more. She is The Red Wolf alright. And she seems happy enough with her Dornishman. I will be lucky to survive this, but at least the girl found some happiness. 

"You have a visitor, imp.", the gaoler shouted and the door opened. Through it, strode a prince of Dorne, holding a torch. But not the one he expected.

"Would you look at that?! Prince Helios of Dorne. The Rising Sun. I was expecting a different Martell.", what is he even doing here?

"Well, I am the Martell you get. As you might have surmised by now, Ser Gregor Clegane has been summoned to the capital to fight for the crown."

"And you think that you can kill him?"

"I know I can.", he replied. Comforting enough, his reply held no shred of simple hubris, he stated it as merely a fact. Not that this helped calm him down.

"And how are you so certain? The Mountain is freakish strong and quicker than you might expect for a man so large."

"Let me tell you story. I am certain you have heard by now of my years in Yi Ti, I killed their God-Emperor in the capital city of Yin. After that, they sent quite a lot of men to kill me. I carved my way through the entire capital city, which by the way was very large. The imperial palace alone was larger than this city."

"Sounds impressive. And during your sneaking out of this monstrously large city, how many men did you fought against? A dozen? A hundred?"

"746 to be precise. I do not account for the ones I maimed. It was a bloody affair. My point is, I can kill the Mountain and I will do it. I want to do it. I need to do it." Impressive and yet....

"Why?", he almost shouted but he had to say it, even if it were to leave him without a champion. "To prove yourself a fancy knight to your lady. She loves you, boy. I have seen the way she looks at you. Do you honestly want to risk leaving her alone again?"

"Because I need to. The Mountain will be here in a week's time. When we fight, I will kill him and you will see why. And I can assure you, nobody will ever forget that duel." he sounded so sure of himself. He still did not want to be the cause for Sansa's grief, but if that man was not just bark, then it will be worth it. He wanted to live.

"And then what? What will happen to me? I doubt that I will still be accepted here."

"You can come with us to Dorne. Away from your father's eyes. I wouldn't mind."

And with that he left Tyrion alone, to await the true trial for his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A different trial. The same outcome, but I wanted to make it different. This Tyrion is not abandoned. He has some friends still. Namely Sansa, who is not an ungrateful bitch, for she remembers what he did for her. And so this Tyrion acts also slightly differently.


	7. Godslayer vs Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anyways, this is the battle that has been in my mind since I started writing this fic. I am certain that everyone is very disappointed how the duel between the Mountain and Oberyn ended in the show so here is something else.

It was the morning before Tyrion's duel. The trial by combat will be held at noon, in view of much of the court. The Mountain had arrived three days in advance and was currently training to hone his skills, which was a polite way of saying that the City watch was throwing prisoners at him to slaughter. Jaime had taken a peek at how ser Gregor had been killing poorly armed criminals with a single strike of his sword and shivered. Even before he had lost his hand, Jaime would have had a hard time surviving a battle against the Mountain that Rides. The man was monstrously large and strong. And quicker than you would expect of a man of that size. He wielded a two-handed great sword with one hand and wore a heavy plate armor, inside which no one else could even move. Defeating this man, this monster, was a feat beyond anything Jaime believed was possible. And yet, for his brother to live, the giant had to die. 

"You know, I don't want to die."

"I would have been surprised if you did, little brother."

Jaime had stayed with Tyrion for the day, broke his fast with him in his cell and talked for what could be the last time.

"I am doomed, aren't I?", Tyrion had turned a little panicky in the last hour. It was almost time for the duel and he had been quite nervous. And with a reason.

"We don't know that."

"The Godslayer. They don't call a person like that, if he is not good at killing people right?"

"From what I have heard, he had killed a God-Emperor in the Far east and carved himself a bloody path throughout their capital. That speaks for some serious survival skills."

"He told me the same story. Forgive me, if I am not all that impressed with him escaping a city, thrown into a panic.", he sighed. "And that number, 700 and something kills, come on. Seriously?! Has anyone killed that many men, singlehandedly?"

"Father must have caused a hell of a lot of deaths when he sacked this city."

"I said singlehandedly.", his voice was harsher.

"The Mountain."

"I am still not overly optimistic."

"Then try. Come on, let's speak of what you will do after you win.", Jaime tried to change the subject. Tyrion calmed down somewhat and rested his head on the wall.

Tyrion sighed. "Even....even if I win, Cersei and father will not rest until I am dead. I imagine being banished from the capital, possible Westeros as a whole, forever."

"Father can't do that. You are his heir."

"Good luck making him admit that. Last time I spoke with him of it, he professed his undying hatred of me. _You are a spiteful little creature, full of envy, lust and low cunning._ I believe he said."

"And what? It won't be up to him, once he dies."

"No one will support me anyways. With Tommen on the throne and soon to wed lady Margaery, I imagine that the Rock would go to Myrcella. Father will frown at a Dornishman in the Rock, but it is either that or one of our inbred cousins."

"They are not inbred.", Jaime tried to argue but he knew that his house was almost as populous at the Freys. And he liked none of them too much.

"Well, let's see. There is uncle Kevan. He would rule ably, but briefly for he is not much younger than father. He lost two sons, Lancel has apparently found religion in his survival of the battle of the Blackwater and regardless is still useless. So, anyone else?"

"Cousin Daven could do. Or cousin Lucion.", the only distant cousins that Jaime viewed as competent. The rest rested on the laurels of Tywin Lannister. "Still you are ahead of them all."

"Provided I outlive father, which I most likely won't. Either that or he finally convinces you to abandon the white cloak."

"I won't.", Jaime said with certainty.

"Fine, do as you like. You will be the first man in Westeros to refuse the lordship of a great house so that you can be a glorified bodyguard..." he lowered his voice "...to a king, he cuckolded with his own sister and your bastards.", Tyrion chuckled.

"Since you are at the death's doors I shall let this one pass.", Jaime replied to his still too loudmouthed brother.

"I hate my sister.", the sparkle in his eyes from the laughter vanished. "I hate my father. And I hated my nephew. If I am to die for the death of one of my most hated kin, I would like to be actually guilty of it. And Cersei...for all her boasts of loving her children and wanting to protect them, she is going to let the murderer of her precious bastard slip through her grasp."

Jaime knew it to be true. The great irony of it all. Cersei did not even contemplate the idea of that. "Who do you think did it?"

"Sansa is my key suspect. She had more reasons to kill him than anyone living.", Jaime had thought of it, but with Sansa being Tyrion's only hope of survival he dared not voice such suspicions. "It is most likely her, but if she gets me out of here alive, I will forgive her most like. There is also father himself. Maybe he thought Tommen would be easier to handle."

Jaime hadn't thought of that. It was possible. And it wouldn't be the first king, whose assassination at a wedding father orchestrates.

"And maybe even the Tyrells. From what you've told me, they were quite quick to propose a marriage to Tommen and Margaery had almost bent Joffrey to her will. Tommen will be firmly in her grasp and so will Westeros through him."

Jaime knew of that likelihood as well. He knew how hastily a betrothal between 10 year old Tommen and Margaery had been arranged. Though it might just be more politics. Jaime hated politics, which is one of the reasons, why he does NOT want to be lord of Casterly Rock. 

The bells started ringing. It was time. Guards came to escort them both to the place, where the trial would be held. 

* * *

Tyrion got to a small stand, just beside the small arena. He remembered when he came to the city right after Joffrey's coronation and he had held a small tourney here. This would be far more interesting. And had gathered a far larger crowd. There was a dais, where his brother, lordly father and his whorish sister sat alongside lord Mace Tyrell. The Grand Maester and the High septon were also here, it was after all a religious ceremony. 

_Two people hacking each other to death to determine whose cause is just. Tells you something about the Gods._

On the stand and around it stood his Dornish friends and the man, who held his life in his hands. Or at the edge of his blade rather.

"Ah, lord Tyrion, good of you to join us.", prince Oberyn quipped, but Tyrion's gaze was captured at his champion.

"What the hell are you wearing?" He was strapped inside an armor, the likes of which he hadn't seen before. Light armor, it surely was, judging by how easily he moved around in it, while he was been tended to by his squire. The armor appeared to be made of a yellow cuirass, dozens of small iron plates, all connected by what appeared to be silk cords in yellow and orange and red color. His helmet was had two flat golden-plated horns, protruding from the forehead area and it also had a mouth covering mask, which looked like the mouth of a beast.

"Not the helmet, yet, thank you.", he told the squire. "This, my lord, is an armor from Yi Ti. It has served me well so far. How does it look?"

"Exotic...to say the least." 

Before he had a chance to say more, death appeared. His opponent, the Mountain that Rides. Cersei's smirk was evident. He really hoped to have it removed. 

"You are going to fight that?", lady Sansa questioned the dornishman, her eyes betraying her fear.

"No. I am going to kill that. In a most savage fashion, if I may add. Damon, give me the sword." Tyrion watched as the young man brought out a sword, which he held by a cord, that was connected to the scabbard. The hilt and the scabbard were obviously a set. "Hold the scabbard, damn you." The lad grasped the sword's sheath and a shriek escaped his lips. _What the..._ Helios Martell outstretched his hand and warily grasped the hilt of the sword and withdrew it from the scabbard.

It's blade was black, darker than black, emanating an aura of dread. His eyes were briefly consumed by it. Tyrion was not much of a poet, but he was quite certain that there must be a song or two about such a weapon.

"It is terrifying, isn't it?", he asked, his hand gripping at the hilt tightly. Tyrion nodded, just before returning to his senses. "Kamigami-no-shi. Means 'death of the gods'. An accursed weapon, this is. Dying by its blade is not....recommendable." He turned his sight from Tyrion and his eyes met his betrothed. "Stop giving me those looks. I will return."

"You better. I love you, you idiot.", that was heart-tearing. Tyrion could almost feel for her if his life was not on the line also.

"So, it is now, that you tell me you love me, for the first time? Seriously?", he asked, sounding incredulous. "Hell of a romantic, you are.". His lips met hers and Tyrion couldn't help, but sigh.

"Oh, so romantic gestures are distressing to you, is that it?", he heard a familiar Lorathi accent ask him.

"Shae.", what was she doing here "Why are you here?"

"A stupid question. I am Sansa's handmaid. I have to be here, by her side, while her man is fighting for the life of mine." Tyrion almost wept. _There are people who love me then._

"Ohhh, go kill that swine already, cousin. This is getting nauseating.", one of the Sand snakes groaned.

"Wish me luck then.", he said and after putting his fearsome helmet on, walked towards the arena.

* * *

He strode towards the center of the arena, listening on the murmurs about his armor. _Can't help themselves. They have never seen Yitish armor before._ He stood before the dais, where the Lannisters and their allies sat to watch what was to come. The High septon began his speech:

"In the Light of the Seven, Tyrion of House Lannister stands accused by the Crown on charges of regicide against King Joffrey of Houses Baratheon and Lannister, First of his name. He has requested and been granted a trial by combat. For lord Tyron stands Prince Helios of House Nymeros Martell of Dorne. For the Crown stands Ser Gregor Clegane, Knight of Clegane's Keep. May the gods give strength to the champion of the righteous. May the Gods punish the accused."

The High Septon was speaking but Helios wasn't listening. He was focused, for he had to. He had to tame the blade. He had to focus its desire for blood. He had to control it, now more than ever.

_Join us! Feed us! You know you want to! FEED US!_

"May the trial commence!"

And so it began.

He did not attack first. Only idiots do so. Despite his sword's insistence on the contrary. The monster that murdered his aunt and cousins began to attack him and swung his sword at him several times. But soon enough, the sword refused to listen to his pleas for strategy and started to possess his actions. 

_Kill. Kill. Kill._

_Add more to us or add yourself._

_FEED US! WE ARE LONELY HERE!_

Their taunts began to overwhelm him. He knew it would happen. All the souls, trapped within the blade, all of them twisted...They demand blood. And he had to feed them. No longer dodging constantly the Mountain's every swing of the sword, Helios began the counterattack.

**************************

As much as Jaime hated to admit, particularly in the past, he knew there were better swordsmen than him. Jaime was good, one of the best without a shadow of a doubt, but there were others out there who could go toe-to-toe with him. Maybe even beat him. The Mountain has always been on that short list. But his opponent, well....even when Jaime had two good hands, he might have still lost. In pure physical strength.

Suddenly, the dancing and dodging around of Clegane's attacks was exchanged for vicious assaults. At first Clegane had no trouble parrying them all, but instead of tiring out, like most would after making so many attacks, the Dornish prince kept going. Each attack more savage than the previous one. And Gregor Clegane....he was being pushed back. By a man, half his size. 

The prince's foreign armor seemed light, certainly did nothing to constrict his movements. His moves were all fluid and graceful....till he decided to go on the offensive. Then it was a graceful slaughter. Jaime had once described ser Barristan as a painter, who used only red. The man, who fought for his brother's life, was a master. A master of death. Aptly called...the Godslayer. 

Jaime couldn't help but smile. Tyrion may survive us yet.

**************************

Sansa had been worried sick, since the evening he had told her. She had assumed that the plan was for prince Oberyn to fight the Mountain. That savage monster, without a shred of honor or even basic decency. A few years back, practically a lifetime ago, there was a tourney in King's Landing in honor of her father's appointment as Hand of the King for Robert Baratheon. Ser Gregor had lost the tilt against ser Loras and in his anger had decapitated his own horse. And then would have killed The Knight of Flowers himself, but for Sandor Clegane. 

And now it is Helios that is fighting him. He needed to, he had told her. Explained her rather, his terrible curse. She didn't care if he was cursed. She loved him, even though she had gained the courage to tell him that at what could be death's door. She felt like a fool, the same fool who had watched her father die. And yet...

 _I love you, too my sweet red wolf. I will return to you._ He had whispered into her ear. She would never forgive him if he failed to keep his word.

"It is going well.", her good-uncle exclaimed. "Still, I would rather be the one doing it."

She looked at the battle that was raging in front of her. She couldn't believe it, he was winning.

**************************

His thoughts were getting clouded by the bloodlust, which was understandable. It was beginning to overwhelm him, all the hatred for the man, nay the monster, in front of him. 

_Only true men can defeat monsters. That's the iron rule._ Those being the words of Shen Hau, the man who tought him how to fight in Yi Ti. The same man had banished him from the country. _But what if a monster fought a monster?_

The truth was, that with this blade in hand, he was a monster without equal. There was no one who could truly defeat him. If it is one on one, he would win. If it was a hundred to one, he might still win. And in truth, apart from the restlessness of the sword, he liked wielding it. Helios enjoyed the raw power. The feeling of strength, strong enough to go through anything. The skill was all his, but the sword was invaluable, aptly being a part of the Eight Sacred Treasures of Yi Ti. The way the Mountain fought was that of a savage, a somewhat skilled savage, but a savage nonetheless. He stood no chance.

Kamigami-no-shi. It wants to kill. All swords are made for killing, yet this one wants it also. Its origin story is a little dubious, but its power is real. Its drive to kill is so great that it would empower its wielder briefly in order to do just that. Helios hated single-mindedness but in this case he would let it pass. The cursed thing was useful when it came to the brute strength of the Mountain and to the stamina necessary to win.

After several clashes, the Mountain struck his sword and kept pressing. _Too heavy._ The man's strength was legendary and yet....

He felt strength surge into his hands. More of it, more of the blinding rage that the blade gave off. More of it, made him stronger. The blade itself became more dangerous. Sharper still, as the fact that it was cutting through Clegane's sword could attest. 

"How?", the Mountain muttered. "How can someone so tiny be this strong? You must have died a thousand times by now.", the Mountain roared like the beast he was, pressing more and more, until the inevitable happened. He crashed blades with him for what must have been the hundredth time today and his sword broke and he was pushed back. His eyes locked at the broken greatsword in his hand.

The crowd gasped, as it is all that they are good for. Helios removed his helmet and tossed it to the side.

"I believe it is high time we had a chat, before I send you to a place worse than hell."

*************************

Tyrion could hardly believe it. Any of it to be perfectly honest with himself. The Mountain was losing. Sure, he hadn't desired for him to win, but to watch what was unfolding was overwhelming. His mouth must have been gaping, for he heard the Red viper snigger. 

"It seems that you are surprised at my nephew's victory."

"Not just him. What the hell?", the man-looking Sand bastard exclaimed. "He cannot possibly be this strong."

"He isn't."

"What?"

"The skill is all him, the blade on the other hand, well, it puts Valyrian steel swords all to shame. I have seen him in action only once before and...well...it was not a pretty sight."

Tyrion loved the sight. The sight of his father gritting his teeth. His sister close to screaming like a bitch. Only his brother was smiling at him. Tyrion knew that he was obviously not welcome in this city anymore, certainly not Casterly Rock, but he was going to live. That was what mattered. And watching the Dornish prince take down the Mountain....

_I am not going to write a song about the dead Starks, as you suggested father, but I will write one about this. The Mountain Crumbled. See, I already have a title._

The sight of Clegane's sword breaking in half was otherworldly, the giant of a man on his knees, trying to stand up. As far as overwhelming sights went, this was the best. 

He watched the heir to Sunspear remove that monstrous helm of his and spoke: "I believe it is high time we had a chat, before I send you to a place worse than hell."

"I have nothing to say to you, Dornish snake.", the Mountain roared and surprisingly enough jumped to his feet and lunged at Helios. Any man who has seen Gregor Clegane in action knew that the man's hands were as dangerous as his sword. The Dornish prince took a battle stance and masterfully dodged him to the side and sliced off the Mountain's right hand, straight at the elbow.

"AAAARRGGGHHHH", Tywin Lannister's mad dog roared, this time not in anger but in pain. Kicking the severed appendage aside, he spoke again.

"As I was saying, I just wanted to run a few things by you. You know, about 20 years ago, give or take, they say you came to the capital with the old man over there.", he pointed towards father. "And you butchered my aunt and cousins. Did you do it?"

The Mountain did naught, but whimper at the pain he must be feeling. _Father's pracitcally sweating._ Tyrion couldn't help but grin.

"No memories. No matter, I know what you did, me and the whole realm. I am curious as to whether those orders came from the Old lion himself or were your own ideas. But as mad as you are, dogs are ever loyal."

Just when the he had gotten too close to him, the Mountain extended his uninjured hand and attempted to attack again. Only to fail, for he now lost his other hand.

"Just how many times do I have to cut off parts of you?", Helios sounded exasperated. "An honest answer. Is that too much to ask for?"

 _In King's Landing, yes._ Tyrion couldn't help but think.

"The will of the Gods has been made known. Prince Helios, there is no more need for his senseless violence.", the High Septon butted in. As if the old fat cunt understood anything of violence.

"It is a shame that you weren't there when the Mountain was torturing his victims, High Septon, so that your words could sooth him.", Helios replied in a mocking tone. "Very well." He raised his sword above his head and decapitated the kneeling Clegane with a single stroke. "The Gods have truly made their will known.", he continued in the same tone. "I win. And it seems that after enjoying themselves on our little bloodbath here," he kicked Gregor's severed head in the direction of his family "the Gods have decided to show that Tyrion Lannister is in fact innocent."

Tyrion almost jumped from joy.

He heard his sister whimper somthing into his father's ear, but the Warden of the West payed her no mind. He rose and proclaimed: "Tyrion Lannister, you have been pronounced innocent. However, the crown will no longer share its presence with you. You have a week to leave the city, never to return." 

That was expected. "Lord Tyrion.", he turned towards prince Oberyn. "I would like to invite you to Dorne, as our honored guest. Would you object?"

"Not at all, my prince." As if he could. Off to Dorne then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My description of Helios's armor is that of a Japanese armor, in case anyone is wondering.  
> And the cursed sword in action.  
> Next - Sansa and Tyrion and company arrive in Dorne. Meanwhile a lone wolf makes a decision that will alter his course.


	8. All roads lead to Dorne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER UPDATED !!!!
> 
> As you may have noticed, there are some new tags. I decided to go full on with rare pairings. So my plans have shifted somewhat.  
> Jon comes into the picture. Finally.  
> Margaery looks towards her future.  
> Sansa comes into her new home and begins to play the game of thrones.

The ice cells were terrible. Little light, little food, zero comfort. _Well, I did try to kill a king._ And what a king he is. He acts like a spoiled brat. Somewhat reminded me of that cunt Joffrey, with his demands for respect. _I am king, I am king, blah, blah, blah...._

More than a month ago, Stannis arrived at the wall with 15 hundred men, all horses, to relieve us of the wildlings and 'save the realm'. All well and good. As it turned out in the end, the threat from the Others was a hoax. An elaborate hoax, but a big pack of lies none the less. Mance Ryder had fooled most of the Free folk into believing the White walkers were back using nothing more than some of his trusted friends, some paints and heavy furs. Then he had prepared ambushes and slaughtered all those who refused to join him and follow him as King-Beyond-The-Wall and disposed of the bodies or painted circles with the body parts. All so that he could scare them into following him. And the free folk were slaughtered in short order. 

_Perhaps someone should have told Mance that foot soldiers do NOT fare well against heavy horse._

And then the shit started. First, Aliser Thorne was chosen as lord commander. The how, given that everyone hates him in Castle Black, is beyond me. And then that king had tried to burn Maester Aemon alive for his 'king's blood'. All because Aliser Thorne, ever the sycophant, couldn't keep his mouth shut and revealed to Stannis that the good old Maester was born Aemon Targaryen, son Maekar I Targaryen. The day that the maester was brought before Stannis will always be etched inside his memory.

_"You are Aemon Targaryen. Do you know why you are here?", asked Stannis._

_"Yes, I do. Because the Usurper's brother wants to burn me alive."_

_"You will not speak to the king like that.", Janos Slynt, one of the men who betrayed father shouted._

_"But which king is that?", maester Aemon asked wittily. "So many kings these days and all of them false. The one true monarch of the Seven Kingdoms is across the sea, gathering her strength to depose all of you lot."_

_"You finally show your true colors, dragonspawn.", seethed Stannis._

_"I am a dragon. I shall not cower before game. You are no king. Where is your kingdom, your grace? Dragonstone, the island you stole, or Storm's end, the land you do not even have? You are nothing, even your 'Lightbringer' is nothing more than a conjurer's trick."_

_Jon had never been so impressed with a man before. The dragon hid no more._

_But the stag was wroth and struck the old dragon across the face. The old man fell on the ground and broke his neck._

In his rage, Jon tried to kill Stannis, but he was restrained and sent here, to the ice cells, to await his sentence. Alliser must have wanted to kill Jon at once, but he needed the brothers' approval. Siding with Stannis, holding the wildings here as hostages for the once that submitted to Stannis and not reacting to the beloved maester's death was taking its toll on his authority. So much for the Night's watch and their vows.

Footsteps were heard and soon he was approached by none other than Janos Slynt. The man who had exchanged his gold cloak for a black one. He even tried to become lord commander, but joined his strength to Aliser at the last moment.

"Rejoice, bastard. Soon you will be executed for mutiny. You will be rejoining your father soon.", the man sneered. _Come a little closer and you will see him before I do._

"Other good news: Stannis is soon to retake Winterfell. I wonder who he is gonna be giving it to.", he kept on gloating. "You know, I really want to be the one to kill you. After all, it is a shame that I was not the one to teach you some-" a spear, coming out from the end of the corridor, struck him in the neck, his words to remain unfinished.

Jon heard a commotion from the outside and another person strode in. Despite being covered in heavy furs, her beauty was beyond doubt. Big, full breasts and blond hair, her face pretty, but hands deadly - the wilding princess, Val.

"Lord Snow, in what predicament you find yourself in?", she smiled at him and broke him free.

"What are you doing? What is happening outside?"

"They shouldn't have left over a hundred wildings in the care of less than 50 crows, Jon Snow. We are in charge now. Killed some of your friends, most joined us. What about you?"

"I am done with the Watch. If they don't keep their vows to remain neutral in the affairs of the realm, why should I? I am leaving."

"And go where?"

Where indeed? Winterfell is held by Stannis. Robb is dead. Lady Catelyn, whom he loathed, is also dead. Bran and Rickon were killed by Greyjoy, that cunt who is gods know where. Arya is missing. And Sansa....just before he was imprisoned, he heard that she was engaged to some Dornish prince. He might as well go to Dorne and check up on his half-sister. As bad as their relationship used to be, she is still his sister.

"I am thinking of going to Dorne. To visit my sister. She is the wife to the ruler of Dorne.", the simplest way to explain it to a free folk. "It is as far south as south goes. Want to come with me?", he could use the company. And given how often she has expressed a desire for him to steal her, why not give in?! Why deny himself some happiness in this grim world?!

"You want to steal me, lord crow? Very well. It was about time you did that. No more black chains around your neck?! Let's pack whatever we shall need and go!" And with that, they took as many provisions as they could carry, stole two fresh horses and rode as far south as south goes.

* * *

Sansa and the Dornish left the capital soon after the trial by combat. A trial that shall not be forgotten soon. To the surprise of all, the Imp won. Declared innocent and exiled, he left with the Dornish for Sunspear. The last Stark's leave as well as the fact that Joffrey's death went unpunished made Cersei mad with rage, but that did nothing to change things. _I hope that Sansa will be happy down south. She deserves it after everything that had happened in this city and to her family._

Margaery herself was to marry king Tommen within the year. A boy of ten. No grand affairs, more modest. After all the money thrown in the drains with the last wedding, nobody wanted a big affair. 

_Husband number three._ And this one is even younger. What is next, a baby?! Truth be told, being a queen appealed to her. She liked it. The idea of it, the power, the influence, the prestige. However what she wanted even more was a partner in life, who understood her. Who was strong and....well....not a man. Just like her brother, she had a desire for the same sex. Men bored her. Renly was a good man, but he was weak. No real strength to him, not to mention that he slept with Loras and refused to provide her with heirs. Joffrey was a monster, plain and simple. Not good examples of ordinary, mind you. And both are dead. One at the hands of his brother's alleged sorcery and the other poisoned. Everybody suspected the Imp, but Margaery knew it was somebody else. The woman, who sat opposite to her, the true head of House Tyrell. The current one was a child still, a good king in the future maybe, but hardly what you would call a man to swoon over.

Margaery had nothing much against men, she was even willing to have children by them. Daughters preferably. She wanted to teach them all she knew, the same way her grandmother taught her. But for a real partner, she preferred the fair sex. Soft and gentle, yet passionate - that is the kind of love she wished for. And yet nowhere to be found. It is not like you can go around and ask women if by chance they preferred other women. Unless you are in Dorne, that is. Or in Highgarden, where she held true power. But Margaery dared not do something like that in the capital. The Lannister bitch would use it against her, if she ever found out so she did nothing of the sort. The only people who knew her preferences were her cousins, who knew better than the provoke the inevitable wrath of her disappointment. There was even a brief time when she wanted to have Sansa, but she quickly figured that the woman was not for her. _The bloody Dornish. Always taking the best things._ But Margarey was happy for her. _Future Princess of Dorne, a handsome husband who loves her and a whole kingdom to rule. No less than you deserve sweet girl._

Margaery the thrice-crowned. That is what they would call her. Quite likely, she will be the first woman in history to marry three kings. And all from the same house.

"Well my dear, it seems that things are moving once again."

"How so grandmother?", _what schemes has she made this time?_

"You have a better and more pliable husband to look forward to this time."

"Yes, one still playing with kittens."

"You shan't be keeping him for long in any case."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that king Tommen's reign will not last too long. Hot winds blow from across the seas." What is she talking about? "I am speaking of the Targaryens. The last dragon is on her way."

"I heard of her. Daenerys Targaryen and her three dragons, but is it true?" The whole court has heard of the 'most beautiful woman in the world' and her three dragons. Margaery was more fascinated with the first fact. What does it take to claim that title?

"According to my sources, she has been busy liberating the slaves of slaver's bay and sacking the slaver cities. Apparently, she has amassed a sizeable host - some 8000 Unsullied soldiers and 2000 mercenaries. Before long, she will turn up in Westeros."

"And then what?", Margaery was worried. "If we are tied to the Lannisters…"

"No alliances last forever. And the one we currently have is soon to be...replaced."

"But what of me?"

"Keep the king in your good graces until all that happens. There is still time for the wedding, for now it is but a betrothal. The queen mother does not want the wedding rushed, citing the boy's age."

"And when the wedding comes?"

"She will be here before that most likely. The Dragon queen is heading west already as I said. She has finished her takeover of Slaver's bay and has a large army. She might acquire an even larger army on the way. Her dragons grow larger every year. If the latest stories are to be trusted, she already rides one of them. I am keeping in contact with them."

"How?"

"Let me worry about that.", she caught her hand between her palms. "All I need you to do is retain your cool and act as if nothing is wrong."

"And what will become of me?" No longer a queen. Can't have two queens.

"You will have the task of inserting yourself into the queen's good graces, while Loras marries her. Knowing Loras's preferences and our house's power, she will not refuse the match. And from what I have heard of her own preferences...you might find some common ground with her."

"Ahaaa.", Margaery could see where this was going. "Inserting myself, you say?!"

"I didn't mean it like that." grandmother scoffed. "But knowing your similarities to your brother, I know that you wouldn't mind, IF it came to that."

So the game is changing then. Bedding a queen? Not such a bad thing actually. _Silver hair and violet eyes._ Margaery would be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to seeing a pair of lilac eyes staring at her from between her legs. And until then....life of chastity.

* * *

The voyage to Sunspear was not long, but gods was it awful. One trip by sea was all it took her to loath ships. And she used to love them. The constant shifting of the boat, it was terrible. She puked overboard so much that in the end, they gave her a bucket. But it was all worth it. As they came closer to the coastline, she saw Sunspear. It was so exotic. Two towers rose high into the clouds, the rest obscured by tall walls. The shadow city sprawling from coast to castle. It was different from Winterfell and King's Landing and so refreshing. She would love it, she knew. 

"Welcome to Sunspear.", Helios said as he kissed her on the neck, where he knew she was ticklish.

"I think I will love it."

"A northerner in Dorne. You might just be the first ever to do that, my lady.", said their charming companion, lord Tyrion. "An exiled lion like myself also finds that he is in the same situation. The first Lannister in Dorne."

"The second I should think." Prince Oberyn added.

The ship docked and they disembarked. They were met by the castellan of Sunspear, one ser Manfrey Martell.

"Well met, cousin. May I present to you, Sansa of House Stark, our future Princess of Dorne.", Sansa curtsied. "And of course, let's not forget Tyrion Lannister, the Imp. Our honored guest."

"Delighted, I am sure.", Tyrion quipped. Sansa knew that Lannisters weren't exactly welcome here and the knight's frown made that obvious.

"My princes, my lord and ladies, the lord of Sunspear awaits."

"My father is here?", asked Helios. He had told her that due to his health he stayed more often in the Water Gardens, which were not so far away.

"Yes, he has heard of your exploits, my prince. Prince Doran has organized a feast in honor of your victory."

"I told you there was a good reason to demand the Mountain's severed head, cousin.", lady Obara quipped. She had made a small fuss when she demanded that ser Gregor's head be packed in salt and given to them.

They were led through the streets of the city where the people welcomed them. After they entered the castle, servants came to lead them to their rooms. Conspicuously, Sansa's rooms were right next to Helios's. She spent the day wondering about the castle waiting for their feast, when a servant came to her.

"Apologies, princess Sansa, but Prince Doran has requested your presence.", 'Princess Sansa'. She liked how that sounded. She couldn't deny the request, so she was let to the prince's solar. A lovely place, with a lovely view. 

The Prince of Dorne suffered from gout so it came as no surprise to see him in a wooden wheelchair. Legs covered in a blanket, yet a face filled with determination, Sansa knew that this was no ordinary invalid. It reminded her of lady Olenna.

"My lady, good you to come. Please sit, we have a lot to discuss."

She took a seat, opposite to his.

"So, how do you find your future husband?"

"Prince Helios is very kind, your highness. He is what I had always thought a prince should be."

"Kind words.", he said but his tone was one of doubt.

"When I lived in Winterfell, I always pictured the south as a place of chivalry. Prince Joffrey as the perfect prince, the capital as a place of interest, luxury and a heaven on earth for me. You can imagine my disappointment, given my treatment there."

"Yes, I am well aware. Don't look so surprised, Dorne still has friends in the capital."

"I see."

"Let me get straight to the point. Would you like to see your tormentors, the people who destroyed your House suffer for their crimes?"

Was this a trap? No, why should it be? Should she be honest? Sansa's honed for plots mind started ticking.

"Why ask?"

"Because, soon there will come a time, when there shall be no more Lannisters or Baratheons. At least not in the capital. A different flag will fly from the walls of the city."

"The red sun, pierced by a spear?"

"Ho, ho, ho. No, my dear. The red dragon on a black field." Sansa's eyes widened. That banner was...."I have made certain alliances to ensure the downfall of those who almost destroyed my family and yours. Are you interested in playing the game?"

"Yes.", she said with clear determination.

"Listen now, Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of the Mad king and his queen Rhaella, has three live dragons across the seas and is gathering a formidable host. I expect that she will invade within a year's time."

"Who else will support her?"

"I thought that given the history between your house and hers you would be opposed."

"She was born after her father died. She should not be blamed for his sins. Only for her own. As should every other person."

"You are wise beyond your years, my lady. As for other allies, the Tyrells would be one of those. And with you, the last Stark living, perhaps the North. Perhaps more, we will see.", he smiled and revealed a letter from his doublet. "I have received news from Winterfell."

"The Boltons?", those accursed oathbreakers.

"No, my lady. Lord Manderly. Stannis Baratheon has defeated the Boltons and taken Winterfell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon is slightly OOC here, but why not? I hate brooding Jon. The death of maester Aemon was brutal but needed, really wanted to show that scene.  
> Margaery makes her POV debut too.  
> Sansa not blaming Dany for her father seems the proper course of action. I mean the whole 'mad king's daughter' thing is just stupid.  
> Updated chapter.


	9. Interlude: The Merman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sort of a filler chapter on the events surrounding Winterfell's retaking.

The winds of winter. Cold and yet, they smelled of freedom. The snows still blew, but unlike during the battle for Winterfell, there was no heavy blizzard or snowstorms. It was a soft reminder of winter. If there wasn't a thick blanket of snow, stretching as far as the eye could see, Wyman would have thought that it was simply summer snow, the one that fell only so rarely during the last year of summer only in the North. 

The battle for Winterfell was fierce, yet it all ended within a week. It all started when the news came of lord Bolton marrying his wicked bastard, legitimized by another bastard, to Arya Stark. All the northern lords were invited, but most were secretly plotting to liberate the girl and kill the Boltons. That was the plan.

Among the guests, the only ones loyal to the Boltons were lady Dustin, who bears a grudge against the late lord Ned Stark, and the Freys. That accursed family came to the North after butchering so many of our kin and yet they thought they would leave here alive?! That thought still amused him to no end.

Well, lady Barbrey Dustin has accepted the end of Bolton rule quite easily and the Freys, who had come here were all dead. Only the pregnant one, almost as fat as Wyman, was spared for she was with child. She would be held hostage for now.

When Stannis Baratheon came here, aided by the northern mountain clans, the Glovers and Crowfood Umber, with a force of 1500 southroners, 3000 clansmen and 500 other northmen, he besieged the castle. Roose Bolton sent Northerners, Wyman's own men included, to fight him, but instead of doing that we allied with them. The fighting was held less than a mile from the castle and with no visibility, due to the snowstorm raging, it was not a problem to trick the Boltons by sending a rider requesting help. A simple trick of a 'losing' battle was played on the leech lord and he sent in the rest of his forces, Frey and Bolton soldiers, to help us, unknowingly driving them right into the traps our forces had laid in the snows. With the gates still open, our men stormed the castle and took it with ease. 

Stannis burned Roose Bolton alive in sacrifice to his foreign god, but he at least left Ramsay SNOW to us. The bastard that had starved poor lady Donella Hornwood, Wyman's cousin, to death. So he gave the same treatment to Ramsay. The boy survived for more than a week, his fleshiness had some use it seemed. Arnolf Karstark, who secretly aided lord Bolton, was executed along with his sons, and Karhold went to Alys Karstark, last living child of old lord Rickard. A skinny, coltish girl she might be, but a better archer the lord of White harbor has yet to see. And lady 'Arya' turned out to be Jeyne Poole, daughter of the late Winterfell steward. The poor girl is still traumatized by the horrors inflicted by the bastard of the Dreadfort, but she is getting better. Fortunately, she has no bastardspawn in her belly, so it would not present a problem. He will find a good husband for her, it's the least he could do.

He looked from the windows and stared at the banners flying in the wind. The Stag head in a fiery heart. It does not belong here. What right does Stannis have over this castle, over the North? His southron knights were all useless anyways. Most of our soldiers who died in the fighting were his own. From his original host of 1500 men, he lost 600. 400 to the snows. Many of the rest fell into their own traps. A pathetic performance. Now less than a thousand undeserving, in his eyes, men fed on northern harvests and drank northern wine. And on top of that, Stannis wants to grant Northern lands to Southron landless knights. He does not respect the North or our people. Not to mention his men who constantly mock our gods and people. Simple laws of hospitality and his previous help in retaking Winterfell are the only reasons that man and his host are still here. Stannis Baratheon was not a man anyone would willingly follow, but out of sense of obligation.

A boy of less than 15 namedays rushed in, clutching a letter in his hand. The maester, tending to the rockery, was his own man, who had been ordered to send any letters he received to Wyman first.

"What is it boy? From whom is that letter?"

"A rider from Dorne just came in. It is their sigil, right? Right?", the lad sounded overly excited. It must be good.

"Whose? Show me?" The boy gave Wyman the letter, it bore two sigils. One of them was that of House Martell, but the other one, the larger one, was the snarling direwolf of House Stark. Could it be? He had heard rumors from the south that lady Sansa has married the heir to Dorne, but he did not know what to think of it. Nevertheless, he had sent a letter to Dorne, informing them of their taking of Winterfell. Dorne hates the Lannisters just as much as the North does. They wouldn't rat them out to the lions, not that they could maintain this a secret forever. 

He unfurled the letter and began reading in his mind:

_To lord Wyman Manderly, lord of White Harbor,_

_It gladdens my heart to hear that the North truly remembers and it does not suffer tyrants and turncloaks. I wept and shook in anger when I heard how the traitorous lord Bolton killed my dear brother and mother and I hope he died screaming. His bastard too, such a poisonous house must be extinguished, before it hurts the North again. As I am currently in Dorne and soon to marry my future husband, I cannot travel North to thank you in person, but I have to express my feelings in this letter. Know that while my marriage was arranged in the nest of liars that is King's Landing, I am marrying for love. It is my husband's desire and mine that, while our first child, be it boy or girl, is to inherit Sunspear, as per Dornish custom, our next child, be it first or second son, is to inherit Winterfell. While the realm may be in peace for now, I know that this is but the calm before the storm. However, I assure you, my lord, that the next storm shall be to the benefit of the North and in fact of all of Westeros. Alas I cannot reveal any more in this letter for fear of it being intercepted, nor can I travel North, to the land of my birth, before the wars are over. Until such a time, knowing of your influence and indisputable loyalty to Stark and Northern interests, I appoint you as lord regent of the North. I also demand that neither you nor the North submit yourselves to false kings, be they Lannister or Baratheon. I shall not suffer our land to be stolen by ambitious southroners, who worship foreign gods and have not a shred of honor. As such I command you to remove Stannis Baratheon, king of Dragonstone island and naught else from my castle and lands as soon as possible. Look after our homeland. I expect monthly reports from you on the conditions of the North and its people and I shall respond in kind. We thank you for your loyalty._

_PS: I know of Jeyne Poole. She was a dear friend of mine. If she still lives, please send her my love and look after her._

_Winter is Coming!_

_Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken!_

_Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell, Lady Paramount of the North and Wardeness of the North. Future Princess Consort of Dorne and Lady of Sunspear._

"Winter's lady....nay Queen of Winter. The south tried and failed to kill our wolves.", he muttered with a smile on his face. Wyman would see to it that he executes her orders. He would write a letter about the Bolton yet to be born, just to be certain. He doubts that lady Sansa even knows of Walda Bolton's existence. As for the Southerners, well...it would be a pleasure not a chore. Now as lord regent, Wyman has the authority necessary to throw out the foreigners. Manderly had decided to sent a message to lord Reed in advance to guard the Neck and Wyman had sent two hundred archers to man Moat Cailin.

Then he rushed through the corridors to the Great hall. On the way, he stopped to check up on lady Jeyne. Inside he saw young Larence Hornwood, formerly Snow, tending to her, while she slept. He smiled at that and hoped that perhaps all of lady Poole's problems that boy could solve. "How is she, my lord?"

"She is getting much better, lord Manderly. She eats now. Letting her watch as lord Roose burned, really had a positive effect on her. She talks now too, but prefers to be quiet. She accepts my offers to take her to walk around the castle sometimes."

"Good."

"And please, my lord, don't call me 'my lord'. I am yet to get used to it."

"But you are now lord of Hornwood. No longer Larence Snow, but Larence Hornwood. You should be happy."

"Yes, but it feels wrong to be made so by this southron king, who worships flames. He...I am ashamed to admit but he frightens me, my lord." At that moment, Wyman remembered that the boy was only three-and-ten. The boy was too young to be a squire and now was a lord. So much responsibility at such a tender age. His cousin didn't like him for his bastard nature, but the boy had no fault for his father's misdeeds. Wyman would take him under his wing and teach him how to be a lord.

"Fret not, lad. I am old and yet my wits are still with me. I will teach you all that I know about how to be a lord."

"Truly?", the boy beamed.

"Aye. I swear. Listen now, you have been caring for the girl since we liberated the castle. Do you know her from before?"

"Yes.", he replied softly. "I....met her here once, when lord Glover brought me. We danced a little."

"Good. Listen now, every lord needs a lady. One does not go without the other. You are a lord and she is a lady. And you clearly have affection for her. After she is fully recovered, it will be good if you were to talk with her about that."

"About what?"

"Come lad. There is still time for that." Old Glover clearly hasn't talked to him about this. Gaps in his education, but the boy is still young.

After he entered the Great Hall, there were some murmurs. The Dornish rider had been fed and given wine, but most were suspicious of his presence. Especially the Southroners, who seemed to hate the Dornish just as much as they hated the Northmen. As barely concealed as those true feelings of theirs are.

"Lord Wyman, what was that message that this Dornishman sent you? He was given our bread and salt and yet no word from you.", old Hugo Wull asked.

"I demand the same, lord Manderly.", loudly spoke Stannis. The man had the audacity to seat himself in the lord's seat. "Why was I not informed of this message in advance and learn of it from a third party? I thought that when I gave you authority here, it would be repaid by loyalty to me, the one true king?"

Several of his knights tapped their cups on the table.

"My apologies, but I was not aware that I owed you my loyalty, my lord."

"How dare you? This is the king.", one of his many knights, whose names Wyman did not care to remember, shouted with fervor. "Then to whom it is, craven? To the Lannisters?"

"No, ser. You mistake being a craven for being clever. I know that you lack the wits the gods gave a goat, but there is a difference." Many of the northern lords laughed at that. "And as to my loyalty, it goes to House Stark."

"Hear, hear." shouted the Liddle. 

"And who might that be? The Starks are all gone."

"Not all. This letter is handwritten by lady Sansa Stark, the lady of Winterfell and all the North. Read it." He gave it to one of his men to read aloud. By the time they got to the last part, most of Stannis's men and the false king himself were at their swords.

"How dares that woman? She owes her loyalty to me. I liberated her home. I, Stannis Baratheon, first of my name, king of Westeros."

"You lot did nothing but die in the snows. Softer than me hairy bottom the lot of you." Many northerners laughed at Liddle's jape. "We liberated this castle. So we should be the ones to decide to whom we owe fealty. And we owe it to the Ned's girl. The Red Wolf."

"The Ned's girl. The Red Wolf.", The northern lords shouted repeatedly.

"Keep in mind, lord Stannis, that we have ten times more men here than you do. Do not make a fuss. Leave in peace, per the orders of Lady Stark, and we shall give you all the provisions you may require to reach Eastwatch and leave with your fleet. Take your family and men and go."

Stannis grumbled but ordered his men to stand down. "To win it from the Boltons only to lose it to an ungrateful slip of a girl, half the world away.", then he shouted. "I will remember this ungratefulness, when I take my throne.", he burst out of the Great hall along with his knights.

 _If he takes it, he means._ Something that turns less likely by the moment. Wyman would write to Lady Stark later today to inform her of the developments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind that Stannis did not liberate Deepwood Motte from the Ironborn here, it was liberated with the help of the Manderlys. And most who followed Stannis to Winterfell, same as in the books, did it to save Arya, who they thought was with the Boltons but that was Jane Poole.
> 
> As you can imagine, I am no fan of Stannis.


	10. A wolf's rise, a lion's fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa attends a feast; Tywin ponders the future

"Are you sure that this is the message that you want sent, my dear?", asked her future good-father. Sansa had just finished writing her letter to lord Manderly. The lord of White harbor had written of Stannis Baratheon's meager host and the Northmen liberating Winterfell and slaying the Boltons. After deciding on her response, she gave the letter to the lord of the castle to read for himself.

"Yes. I do not know Daenerys Targaryen and neither does she know me. All I know of her is that she is the mad king's daughter and she knows me as only the daughter of Ned Stark, the usurper's best friend. Denying help to Stannis Baratheon, the Usurper's brother and only true heir, and banishing him from the North is an excellent thing to add to her knowledge of me, don't you think?"

"I must admit my dear, for someone so young, you have become a master at the game. Perhaps the only Stark to ever achieve such a feat. I must admit I had some reservations about you marrying my heir, but it seems they were unfounded."

"I imagine that you wanted him to marry her, no?"

"Did he tell you?"

"No. It was simply logical." In truth, Helios had mentioned that his father was not all too pleased with his betrothal.

"Very well then. Come now. We have a feast to attend to."

The air was dry, even with winter fast approaching. The great hall, where the feast was conducted, was not so however. Somehow, inside the air felt more humid. Possibly because of all the various herbs, smoking from the braziers. Helios told her they were from Yi Ti and kept the air fresh and pleasant. Sansa had exchanged her gown with a sleeveless dress in white and yellow to emphasize both the house of her birth and the house of her betrothed - Stark and Martell. The wolf and the sun.

The feast was attended by dozens of lords from all over Dorne. She did not yet know all the Dornish lords and ladies by name, but had memorized the banners. Most of them at least. There was a woman from House Dayne, men from House Blackmont, men from House Manwoody, Qorgyle, Gargalen, Uller, Toland, Fowler and so on. From them, she knew but a few. Lord Blackmont was familiar to her from the journey back from the capital. Lord Uller was the father of Lady Ellaria. Lady Toland and lord Gargalen were also familiar faces from the capital. Lord Yronwood, the second strongest Dornish house, was also there. Most if not all Dornish lords were currently here, largely because they rarely saw much from their Prince Doran, who preferred to spend his days in the comforts of the Water Gardens.

They also wanted to see two things - their future liege who had finally avenged their princess Elia and his Northern betrothed. In a fashion, reminding her of the Northern lords, she saw their doubts for their prince marrying a foreigner, an outsider. And she couldn't really blame them. They did not know her. She was new here, yet to prove her worth. Yet to show whether she was just some power-hungry simple minded lady or a worthy consort for their prince.

Next to her sat Prince Trystane and his bride to be - the princess Myrcella Baratheon. As a daughter of Robert Baratheon and a Lannister, a name most loathed here, she was having it far worse than Sansa, despite having more than a year to adapt to the new place. Noticing the looks some gave her was not difficult, the Dornish didn't put too much effort in disguising their feelings. In truth, Trystane and Myrcella were both children and yet, while Trystane was obviously fond of her, she was not too comfortable here. For once, their roles were reversed and Sansa couldn't help but feel good for a moment. Close to her were also ser Arys Oakheart and a Lannister cousin of Myrcella, both there for her to use. Lannisters were always surrounded by Lannisters.

The Sand Snake were dressed in their finest silks, even Obara. Tyene ever the sweetest, was dressed like a pious and innocent unflowered maiden. Funny thing is, she isn't any of those things. Tyene just emitted that sort of effect on people and she kept it up for it amused her. The change into a fierce viper was most sudden and usually to deadly effect. Nymeria was chatting with the twin daughters of lady Fowler and judging from their expressions, Sansa was certain that they would soon retire for the night. But not before the main event.

Lord Tyrion sat close enough to her for conversation to be easy. He enjoyed his Dornish red and the company. Dorne was a dangerous place for a Lannister, especially with what is to come, but she would let him blissfully wallow in ignorance. He deserved some break before he had to worry about the heat of a dragon's breath. Sansa had most likely secured some favor with the Dragon queen, given her treatment of the man who chased her from her home, when she was barely born into the world. However, she hoped to do something for Lord Tyrion. She suspected that prince Doran would likely want for Myrcella to be legitimized a Lannister and made lady of Casterly Rock. A smart move, mind you, this way she would show mercy to the usurping royal house, to the Lannisters and would have Trystane as de facto lord of the west. Three things that would benefit her reign. And yet Sansa hoped that Tyrion could use that clever head of his to save himself. Perhaps she could convince her to make him master of coin. Say what you will, but Tyrion would never embezzle. And he does know his numbers, the man is as smart as his father, though nowhere near as ruthless.

Prince Doran raised a toast: "To King Tommen of House Baratheon, First of His Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. " _And a boy of ten._ But Sansa didn't say it. The whole concept of a child ruler amused her to no end. A child, by definition, cannot rule. And he didn't. He was but a pawn of Cersei and Tywin. And Margaery, of course. Not for long though. Soon, we will have a new queen. One who, at the very least, can actually do something by herself, not just be cruel to people and drink herself to death. Like the current one - the lioness. Ha. As if Cersei is anything without her family's power and influence. For all her bravado of being in power, if she weren't born into a noble family like the Lannisters, she would have ended up in one of Littlefinger's brothels. The woman had neither power nor the patience needed to get something gone. Sansa was not too different once upon a time, but no longer. Her suffering and humiliations at the royal court have taught her patience. The patience necessary for survival, to wait till she could exact her vengeance. And her wait will soon be over. The wolf will gorge herself on lion's blood soon enough.

Unsurprisingly, not too many raised to Doran's toast. Almost half the people, chief among them the Sand Snakes, didn't. Sansa did, out of curtesy only. And Helios was just drinking from his cup, not actually paying much mind to what was going on. The more enthusiastic were obviously just eager to get another sip from their cups. Not that she could blame them. To them, Tommen was a ten year old with a crown on his head, a ridiculous notion that, and a Lannister bastard. For all of lord Tywin's attempts to end the rumors, everybody believed them. Not the least because they were true. _Father always spoke praises of king Robert, his best friend. How could that man not notice, when his children were just in front of his eyes? For the gods' sakes, they look nothing like him._

"I also present to you - the head of the Mountain." He had the maester unveil a box, inside which, packed with salt, lay the head of Gregor Clegane. A big skull to be turned into a trophy. Myrcella, surprisingly did not show disgust, but then again the girl was not a bad actress. And was soon to be her good-sister besides. Sansa never hated her, she was nothing like her mother, but she had to admit to herself that she liked their reversal of roles. Once upon a time, Sansa would have married her evil brother and become her sister-in-law. Now, Sansa is marrying the older brother of her husband and the princess of the Seven kingdoms will have only as much of an influence here as Sansa allows it. Cersei must be fuming a the thought of her daughter being at Sansa's mercy. Lucky for her, Sansa Stark was nothing like Joffrey or Cersei. _But I will still demonstrate who is in charge on occasion._ Sansa has always been a little petty. 

The crowd cheered at the head as Obara lifted it high for all to see and put it on a pedestal. "Give it to maester Myles to clean it of flesh before you string my trophy cousin. Lest it begins to stink.", Helios said to her and Sansa felt relief at not having to at least smell a rotting head here. The heat made the decomposition of corpses even more unpleasant, she had learned in the capital, while forced to look at her father's head every day.

"To the man who broke the Mountain and avenged Elia and her children!" prince Oberyn raised a toast.

"To the prince!" this time everyone raised a glass in honor of him and so did Sansa. She was still angry with him for making her worry so, but she would forgive that for he returned alive to her. The feast went on into the night, just like all feasts did. The funny part usually ended in a few hours, the rest was all just the dying down of the feast.

Sansa took a stroll through the gardens with Tyene to try to clear her head, while Helios was talking with his father. Sansa didn't feel like home just yet, but she loved the place nonetheless. For the first time since Winterfell, she felt safe.

"So, how do you find Dorne, princess Sansa?" she couldn't help but smile at that. There wasn't much left of the vain, naïve and stupid little girl, who hadn't seen anything of the real world, beyond Winterfell. And yet she loved the title and what it implied. She loved how it felt, to be loved and respected. It just....felt good.

"It Is lovely. Though quite hot and dry."

"I can help with the latter problem.", Tyene smiled at her mischievously, one of her fingernails trailing up Sansa's right hand.

"You are nowhere near as subtle as you think you are, Tyene." the daughter of Oberyn Martell chuckled and Sansa did the same. "Who knows though? Perhaps one day."

Sansa left her to ponder her words. She did enjoy Tyene's company a great deal and saying that such thoughts haven't crossed her mind would be lying. But she still had to have her wedding which would happen within a fortnight, her wedding night and losing her maidenhood. The last of which was what had always worried her. Probably the only thing that has kept worrying her since childhood. Despite all that she had gone through in the capital, she had managed to keep that. Not her dignity, for she lost it when she begged for her father's life to the monster that took it with a smile. Not her honor, for she lost it the moment she revealed Cersei her father's plan to get them out of the city, even though she had to know by then what kind of person the queen and her son were. Not her innocence, for she had to face the harsh realities of the world and its brutalities. She had kept her maidenhood and now she could happily give it to the man she loved. And she would make the Lannisters pay their debts. Winter is Coming for House Lannister and Sansa of House Stark will stand tall atop the ashes of that wretched family.

* * *

Tywin's life was getting more difficult by the day. You would think that his life would have gotten easier with the Dornish out and Tyrion gone, but it wasn't. The king remained unavenged and that made his daughter even more annoying than usual. He had to constantly make certain that she strayed from the Tyrells with whom she always made arguments. Not to mention that the Tyrell girl enjoyed to rile her up. If Tywin was not her father, he would have enjoyed it too, alas she was a show of the prestige of their house and he could afford no such things. Cersei's wedding to Loras Tyrell was to happen a fortnight after the next royal wedding between Margaery and the new king. Thankfully a much less expensive affair. Though why did the Queen of Thorns agree to Cersei's demand that the wedding be postponed until the boy turned thirteen, he couldn't fathom. A formal betrothal was already made, but he would have thought that the Tyrells would demand they rushed things so that Margaery be queen. He refused to believe that they were concerned with Tommen's age, for they could arrange that the bedding part would be removed from the ceremony. Their alliance was vital to the survival of House Lannister and House Tyrell wanted to get their hands on the throne. Were they not greedy anymore? Have they decided that the crown was too expensive? Something was afoot. But Tywin did not know what. He had basically bullied Olenna into agreeing to marry Cersei to her heir, but....

He knew that the boy wouldn't mind, given his preferences marrying a maid of sixteen or a woman of near forty was no difference. He would touch her every once in a while to have heirs and be done with it. He would chase his boywhores, while Cersei raised the future of House Tyrell, another House Lannister in disguise. She was still fertile, he believed. She had to do her duty and secure the Reach. Jamie still clung to his bloody white cloak, but he would remove him from the Kingsguard one way or another even if he had to rip it off his shoulders in the middle of the throne room. Tyrion was finally gone. He would have preferred to send him to the Night's watch, but at least he won't have to suffer the shame of a Lannister going there. Not that there was a place to send him to. Three days ago, Tywin received a letter from the commander of Eastwatch-by-the-sea, which spoke of a massacre in Castle Black, where many black brothers were slaughtered and the wildlings imprisoned there, now ran amok in the North.

In the meantime, while handling all his other problems, he also had to train Tommen for kingship, a task made difficult with the fact that he was still ten years old. The boy preferred to play with his kittens and frankly Tywin couldn't judge. If he could throw away all of that work he had, he would gladly go back to the Rock and spend the rest of his days watching the caged lions in his home. 

Alas, he had a country to rule. Seven whole kingdoms and no one to help him with it. Kevan, his most trusted aide, was his castellan so he couldn't well have him here.

Tywin had to keep the balance of power between Tyrell and Lannister. He had to figure out a way to deal with the Targaryen girl in the east, who apparently has started marching west to Volantis. He had to deal with the fact that Winterfell was held by the Boltons no longer. He had received a letter from lord Manderly, declaring himself Lord Regent of the North for Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell, Wardeness of the North. If only the Boltons weren't so spineless. Begrudgingly, he had to recognize the title, for there were no more Boltons and the rest of the Northern lords were too loyal to the Starks. At least the Stark girl had the decency to banish Stannis Baratheon from the North and the man had fled with his ships. According to the Spider, the man had been working with the Iron bank, who had given him funds to hire the Golden Company, which was 10 000 strong. They were also more skilled than any army in Westeros. But they were also on another continent. Would the Iron bank keep backing the man? He had fought in the North only to lose it to the whims of a young woman. Frankly, he was surprised she had done so, but perhaps she was smarter than anyone anticipated. Stannis had no chance of victory, only of a long and bloody defeat. He was a capable commander, but that is all. A commander with, apparently, less that 1000 men. So with some reluctance, Tywin had to agree to lord Manderly's claims. He was in no position to make armies march North, especially with winter here. They will need grain from the Reach just like the rest of us in order to survive so he would be able to rein them in. And yet....the Starks were the power in the North once again. A whole war for nothing.

Balon Greyjoy was dead. Another piece of good news. He had died a few weeks after Joffrey and now there was a succession crisis. On one hand, there was Balon's madman of a brother and on the other was his daughter, Asha. The girl was a renowned reaver of some fame and Tywin would rather just make peace with whomever won. The Iron Islands have never been able to stand against the united Seven kingdoms. They would have to teach them thus, which is why Tywin cannot ignore them. It is easy to forget that their shit-stained rocks did not exist and yet they did. And they caused trouble. The Ironborn were in the end no more than a bunch of religious pirates after all.

It is the queen across the sea that keeps him awake. Three dragons and a large army. 8000 Unsullied, renowned as the best infantry the world can offer. Not to mention all those Targaryen loyalists hidden in Westeros. Tywin knew that they were not as many as Robert had feared, but there were plenty. If she came to Westeros, she had no certain allies, but if House Lannister appeared weak, our own allies would desert us. The Martells first. Sansa Stark and Daenerys Targaryen are as similar in personal histories as two raindrops. So that now included the North. The Tyrells might whore their daughter to her as well and offer Loras as consort for all he knew. The Greyjoys would support her too for a chance to raid the Westerlands. Frey would back whoever he thought would win. And Baelish, well, as mystery as the man was to him, with such odds, he would never go against the winning side. How could he ever think of Stannis as the biggest threat?

Yes, the man has experience in war, the Greyjoy rebellion is proof enough of that, but that was all. He lacked the charisma that made men follow idiots like his brothers. Both of the other men were fools, but tens of thousands would have died for them. He should have looked east. But there was no point in dwelling on that. He had to discover a way to kill dragons. Throughout all of history, dragons died either of old age, which given their lifespan was an achievement of itself, or by violent means. Alas these violent means were other dragons. No man has successfully managed to kill a dragon singlehandedly. The Storming of the Dragon pit was an example of men, killing dragons, but those dragons were chained and thus mostly defenseless. And their killers died with them. The only example of successful dragon slaying was in Dorne. The dragon Meraxes had been taken down with what must have been a lucky shot from a scorpion. Those weapons were not very useful in land battles but against dragons, maybe. Still, the lucky shot somehow managed to strike the dragon in the eye. And the dragon was a moving target, flying at high speeds in the sky, breathing fire. It was a longshot, but infinitely better than doing nothing. He would order some constructed as soon as possible. He began writing a letter with orders for the construction of scorpions to be sent to the forges of the city.

He heard a noise in the corner of the room. "Show yourself. There are guards outside those doors."

"It is me, my lord.", the Spider revealed himself. Another man of uncertain loyalties. "I needed to speak to you."

"So, you would seek me out, while lurking in the shadows?" There were many hidden passages inside the Red Keep and Tywin knew the Spider knew them all like the back of his hand. 

"My lord, it is a most important piece of information that is for your ears only.", he said, while approaching Tywin's desk. Tywin never rose, but he was armed with a dagger still and indeed had guards in front of his doors. He had no reason to fear from Varys.

"Out with it then." The spider gave him a letter with the seal of House Tyrell. Tywin unfurled it and skimmed through its most disturbing contents. "So that is why the Tyrells are not against the wedding being postponed."

"Yes, my lord. As you can see, lady Olenna is plotting to marry queen Daenerys Targaryen to ser Loras and make her granddaughter, the lady Margaery, her 'most dear companion' I think the term was."

"Bedmate, you mean. Ha, as if I would ever allow this to happen. If that old woman thinks that she can sell House Lannister to..." For a moment he grew suspicious over the fact that the Spider had called the Targaryen girl queen, but then his fingers felt odd and he noticed there was some sort of dust on his fingertips. It was from the letter it seemed. Suddenly, Tywin's hands began to turn stiff. "What is happening? Poison!", the old lion meant to shout but his voice was hoarse and too low for anyone outside the room to possibly hear him. The spider's face turned into a most sinister grin.

"It is called Brimstone ash, my lord. Once it gets absorbed into your skin, there is no hope. Which is why I wear gloves, you see. The first thing that goes is your ability to move, then go your eyes, then your voice, afterwards the hearing and your life in the end.", he revealed his hands from inside his sleeves and Tywin managed to see the Spider's gloves despite his blurred vision. Tywin could not move anymore, he could barely speak, his vision was blurry but his ears and mind still worked for now. "You see, my lord, I was planning on ending you myself. While I know that queen Daenerys would have loved to kill you herself, not to mention Prince Oberyn's disappointment, I feel that you would only prolong what should be a peaceful transition into power. Well, by peaceful I mean easy. For House Targaryen that is."

"You...", Tywin managed to gasp out. "....have been theirs this whole time."

"Why, but of course. Granted, It took me some time to discover the master I wished to serve." Varys sat himself against the dying lion, as if nothing worried him in the world. "First, there was Aerys, but then he was mad. And I will always regret informing him of Rhaegar's plot to overthrow his father. I was loyal to Rhaegar's children and wife, the only people to show me kindness....in a very long time. Then, you killed those good people and those innocent children. That is when I swore myself to the destruction of your house, my lord. I wanted to serve Viserys, but then he turned out to be half-mad himself, but then I heard of her. Daenerys Targaryen. Strong and yet compassionate. A keen sense of justice, perhaps too keen for some. Strong and yet wise beyond her years. And most importantly, unlike all you self righteous people, who can't be bothered with it, she actually cares for the people she rules over. Else, why do you think she stayed in Slaver's bay for over a year in order to pacify and bring peace to the region. A region people are now calling the Bay of Dragons. And her invasion would be coming earlier than I anticipated. By the end of next year, she will have taken all of Westeros. Take heart, my lord, all your family's blunders shall be forgotten along with you."

"Why tell me all this?"

"Because I like to gloat, my lord. When you die, your daughter will take power and think that the Tyrells are responsible. Or maybe even your son, who is half the world away. As foolish as such notions are, your daughter is an idiot. And that kind of idiot is needed for Daenerys's accession to the throne. After all, the best way for people to forget that her father was the worst king in history, is to have your daughter be something even worse. And the best part is that she won't even need help to do that. I believe she can ruin your house all on her own, don't you think?!", he cackled and looked through Tywin's desk and took the letter which he was about to send as well as the one that poisoned Tywin. "I will take those if you do not mind. I would hate for them to confuse your daughter and her lickspittles. I have work to do now. Conspiracies do not plot themselves, you know. Good night, my lord. We will not meet again." 

The Spider slipped back into the shadows as Tywin Lannister's eyes closed for the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are wondering events in Dorne and surrounding Sansa are going a bit slower compared to the rest. Outside events are shown moving faster but it is still one timeline. No time travel here, just the occasional jetpack theory. Sorry for the confusion.  
> That poison was my own invention, wanted to make it dramatic.  
> Sansa is playing the game of thrones like a pro, not like an idiot juggling Molotov cocktails.  
> Well, what do you think of all this?

**Author's Note:**

> Well, what do you think? Please, I need feedback. It's how all this works.


End file.
